


Orion's Law

by HooahSergeant



Series: The Law Series [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, Cop Drama, F/F, FBI Agent Quinn Fabray, Future Fic, Original Character(s), non-linear time line
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23536144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HooahSergeant/pseuds/HooahSergeant
Summary: After a death in the family, Quinn and Rachel head back to Lima. Important introductions are made with surprising results. Rachel learns something dark about Quinn's past - and her reunions with certain people do not go as expected.
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Series: The Law Series [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693714
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

Orion's Law - Everything breaks down.  
\---  
November in New York was cold, which one would think would be fairly obvious. Nevertheless, Quinn was always slightly taken aback when the weather turned and she found herselffreezing. Yes, she grew up in Ohio, and yes it snowed there, but somehow that didn't make her a fan. She loathed the cold that seeped into her very bones; the layers of clothing she had to wear. It was horrible. It was wet, and not like rain. She loved the rain. Snow was different. A point she argued futilely with both Ryan and Rachel.

Rachel, on the other hand, embraced the change in seasons like she did almost everything else. With utter giddiness. Quinn was still slightly surprised that she hadn't caught her out on the balcony serenading the neighborhood with some sort of festive tune to welcome the flurries of snowy awfulness.

Shivering at the thought, Quinn burrowed herself deeper under the mountain of blankets heaped on top of her bed. The heat was on, she'd had several tumblers of whiskey (it had been a good night), she was wearing flannel pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt, yet the cold still reached her. In front of her right at the edge of the mattress, with all the added blankets shoved off, Rachel slept on, oblivious to Quinn's chilliness. Stretching out, she snuggled closer to the softly snoring woman, nuzzling into her hair and tangling their legs together - careful to keep her toes away from Rachel's calves. In the midst of a slightly drunken romp the previous evening (it had been an awesome night) her feet had made contact with Rachel's exposed skin and the shriek of protest had almost derailed their adventure between the sheets.

Rachel was limp and deliciously sleep warmed, Quinn curled herself closer, wrapped both arms around a slim midriff and tugged lightly. She sighed and glanced out the window, shuddering anew when she saw the dreary-colored outside.

Awake now, but still sleepy, Quinn ducked her head into the warm crook of Rachel's neck and inhaled deeply - the fragrance of mint, cocoa butter and Rachel, lifting her mood. She couldn't help but let her lips drag across tan skin, earning a little unconscious hum.  
She was weighing the pros and cons of waking her girlfriend when her cell phone shrilly interrupted her thought process. Rachel groaned and turned her face into her pillow, while Quinn reached over her and slapped blindly at the bedside table to reach the offending device. She growled when her fingers closed over it and yanked it to her ear, answering the call without looking at the screen.

"Fabray," she said and returned her mouth to it's earlier task, teasing the edge of Rachel's ear. She lipped happily at the skin, waiting for Ryan's gruff voice to shatter her moment so she could tell him to go to hell.

"Quinn?"

She froze, with Rachel's ear lobe held lightly between her lips. "Mom?" Her eyes flew open and she rolled away from the lazy tangled position she'd been in. "Mom, what's up?"

"Your father's dead."

And just like that the cold of New York in the winter no longer held a candle to the chill that pervaded her. "I - what?"

"Last night, sweetheart, he had a massive stroke."

"Okay," Quinn rasped and threw her forearm over her eyes. She couldn't seem to get her mind in gear to form sentences. Everything was so blank suddenly. "Um, funeral?"

"I'm not sure right now. I'm, well, I don't have the details from his... I don't know. Yet, anyway. It's all sort of being worked out, right now. When can you come home?"

It wasn't right, to think of there as home. She was home, she'd have to leave home to get to her mother. That house hadn't been home since she'd been kicked out. Even when she'd moved back in it was just the place she slept at night. Never a home again. "I'll look at flights and be there as soon as I can."

The bed dipped and shifted, Rachel's fingers closed around her wrist and pulled her arm away from her face. "Quinn?"

"Is that... Rachel?"

"Yeah, Mom." Quinn grimaced and instantly hated herself for it. She turned her head to see the curious look Rachel was sporting, along with a concerned frown, and slipped her free hand up Rachel's neck to cup her face gently. Her thumb automatically started to rub smooth little circles against Rachel's cheek. "Let me get up and search some flights and I'll call you back. Are you okay?"

"Yes, dear. I'm as okay as I can be. It would be nice to see you a - and Rachel."

She swallowed against the lump in her throat and smiled lopsidedly when Rachel laid her tiny hand on her sternum and rubbed soothingly. "I'll call you back."

"Bye."

"Bye." She didn't bother with disconnecting the call, the dial tone was already ringing, just dropped the phone into the blankets and rolled into Rachel. Quinn balled up, laying her head on Rachel's hip and Rachel drew her legs up, cradling her with her whole body.

"You want to talk?" Rachel asked after a moment, fingers sifting through long blonde hair.

"Not yet," Quinn whispered and threw herself away from the gentle embrace. She untangled her long legs from her cocoon and staggered into the bathroom. The cold water she splashed on her face didn't do much to help with anything but waking her up completely. She braced her hands on either side of the sink, water dripping off her chin, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Cloudy and bloodshot hazel-green eyes stared back at her, flicking over her haggard-looking face. Rachel appeared behind her, rubbing at her eyes and toying with the hem of her t-shirt.

"You know it's snowing out and you're only wearing underwear and my shirt." Quinn said and dropped her gaze from the mirror.

"I'm warm blooded," Rachel quipped and stepped in further, solidly pressing her lean body up against Quinn's. "Besides sleeping with you is like sleeping next to a furnace. I'll never understand how you're so cold all the time with the heat you put off. As for the shirt comment, I'm pretty sure your name's not on it. Also? I recognize your deflection techniques, love."

"My Da - hmm," Quinn cocked her head and bit her lip. "My father died, last night."

Behind her Rachel stiffened, then tucked her arms more firmly around Quinn's hips. "I'm sorry."

Shaking her head Quinn turned in the embrace and leaned into Rachel's shoulder. "I don't know how I feel, Rachel, or what to say."

"You don't have to," Rachel soothed and set the side of her head against the silky strands of Quinn's hair.

"Can you just... ?" She trembled, bit back tears, and buried her nose in Rachel's neck. Memories she didn't want, that she'd pushed down as far as she could were attacking her. They bubbled up and swirled around and around, surrounding her from all sides.

She was always supposed to be his favorite child. He'd always made such a big deal of her, showed her off to his company. It had always been about her looks and left her feeling like a painting after awhile. Something people could look at, but never touch. No one ever touched her. She became another collected trinket, a special one that wasn't shiny but lived, breathed, spoke. As she grew older, and more 'beautiful' in his eyes, he too became less affectionate. As though any contact with her might make her real, something more than another soulless pretty object. His motto became 'women and children are to be seen, not heard' - a bastardization of a motto she found horrific before his changes to it.

Quinn wanted contact, craved it, and the more she looked for it the worse everything got. She'd had to teach herself to stop wanting it. Convinced herself that she hated it. It was one of the first lies she ever force fed herself. But she never believed it.

Still, Quinn loved him, he was her Daddy. She did everything she could to find him again, wondered what she'd done to make him loathe her existence. To her, he was still the man who gushed over her art projects and took her to the library. The one who slowly began to disappear by bits and pieces before her eyes. The final blow came the night Finn loudly, and dramatically, brought her father into the know about her pregnancy.  
That was the night he died. At least as far as she was concerned.

"Whatever you need," Rachel said, pulling her back into the now.

"Hold me?"

"Of course, baby."

"I have to find flights and make some phone calls," Quinn mumbled into Rachel's shoulder. "And I want to ask you something but I don't know how to without making you uncomfortable."

"You want me to go with you?"

She nodded. "But you don't have to. I know you've got your show and it's my family and it would mean going back to Lousy Lima."

"I'll go."

"Rachel."

"No, you want me there and I want to be there for you."

Quinn palmed Rachel's shoulder blades and clutched her that much closer, painfully relieved but also feeling guilty. Rachel had answered so quickly, and Quinn knew that Rachel had made plans to never go back to Ohio if she could help it. She was only agreeing to go for her and she didn't want her to do that.

"I'm going, so quit trying to think up ways to talk me out of it. And it's a family emergency, everyone will be understanding, so stop feeling guilty." Rachel said and stroked her fingers down Quinn's spine. "Do you want me to make you some coffee while you find us some flights? I'll have to make a few phone calls myself."

"Can we just stay here a little longer?"

"As long as you need."

Rachel smiled sadly when Quinn eventually pulled away from her. She slipped her hands up over Quinn's shoulders up to her face and gently wiped the lingering dampness from under her eyes with her thumbs. "I'm here."

\---

"I've never flown first class before," Quinn said quietly as she eased herself down into a chair in their boarding area.

Rachel grinned and dropped her bag into the seat next to her. "The perks of a famous girlfriend."

"I guess, though it seems extravagant when you consider it's only a two hour flight."

"Only two hours, listen to you," Rachel teased and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. "Silly woman."

"Diva," Quinn shot back with a small smile.

"You know that's only an insult outside the world of theater right?"

"Who said I was insulting you?"

Shaking her head, Rachel stooped and kissed Quinn's temple before snatching her purse back up. "I'm going to go get something to drink, okay?"

"Okay, I'll be here," Quinn said with a wave of her hand and pulled her bag into her lap. "Don't miss the flight, Superstar, and watch out for the autograph mob."

"I'll be back before you know it," she promised and spun on her heel to seek out the nearest coffee shop.

She was standing in line, Redbull in one hand for Quinn, and reading the menu, when her phone went off.

"Hello?" she said, still trying to decide between earl grey and green tea. It was a decision she would never take lightly, too many times she'd picked one and then wished for the other. The wrong kind of tea could ruin a day - it was that serious. She hadn't bothered with looking at who was calling, she already had a good idea.

"Rachel." Sure enough, Ryan Peterson's gruff voice filled her ears and she stiffened immediately at his use of her name and not the usual pet-name. "I just got Quinn's message. I need to talk to you."

"I'm in line at Starbucks, can you hold on for a couple of minutes?"

"Is she with you?"

"No." Rachel frowned and moved the phone away from her ear to glare at it. The conversation was already making her nervous and it hadn't even really started yet. "Ryan, I have this feeling I know what you're calling about. Could you, perhaps, confirm my suspicions?"

"It's about Quinn, obviously, and the situation you're walking into."

"I'm not walking into anything," she hissed. Her expression changed the second she stepped up to the counter. She beamed her best award-winning smile at the harried looking barista. "Green tea, please, a venti." Passing him the Redbull as well, she didn't drop her smile or speak into the phone again until she had paid and escaped the crowded shop with Quinn's drink in her purse and hers in her hand. "I grew up with Quinn, Ryan. Maybe not since Kindergarten, or whatever, but we have history, so don't act like I don't know anything about where we're going. Or is this in reference to our relationship? Are you worried about gay bashing? I have two dad's, I'm not a stranger to narrow minded bigots."

"Are you walking?"

"Yes, what does that - "

"Sit down. Sit down, and listen to me."

She didn't question him, though part of her wanted to, just planted herself in the nearest seat and stared blankly at the wall on the other side of the terminal. "I'm listening."

"I understand that you and Quinn have known each other for a long time, and that you probably know more about her than I do because of that. But I also know that there are things she hasn't told you, that she'll never tell you. It's not secret keeping, alright? She's trying to protect you. I can't let you go down there blind though, I need you to understand how much Q needs you."

Rachel blinked rapidly and sputtered on her tea. "I'm not stupid, of course she needs me. Her father just died!"

"That's not the only reason. You're going into what, for all it is, could and should be considered a hostile environment. A goddamn combat zone, if ever I've been in one. You need to go in prepared for that."

"I don't know if you know this," Rachel said with a roll of her eyes. "But I'm not a soldier, and you're not making much sense."

He sighed so hard the sound was distorted into static through the earpiece. "Rachel, her family is a nightmare. Judy Fabray is just the tip of the iceberg with this bunch. How much do you actually know about what went on under that roof?"

"Are you trying to tell me Quinn was abused? Neglected for sure, but I never saw any evidence of physical abuse." She searched fuzzy memories of High School, trying to remember bruises or marks on Quinn's usually flawless skin.

"You don't have to hit someone to abuse them."

Her throat constricted around a hard swallow as his words struck a chord. She'd known that, she had - when she thought of how broken Quinn was, still was in some ways, she'd always known, always seen it. To Rachel, it seemed like she was the only one who'd ever noticed just how lost, alone and afraid Quinn Fabray was. "Ryan."

"I'm sorry, you've already got a lot on your plate. How's she doing?"

"She's quiet, which isn't strange. I think she's trying very hard to keep it all together. There's small things going on with her that are... off." Rachel tried for another sip of her tea. Relieved when it didn't scald her she took another, longer drink. "She tries so hard to be strong."

"You've always been the strong one, Rachel. Dramatic and crazy too, but you're the rock. I've listened to enough stories and been around you enough to put that together."

"I don't know about all of that," Rachel said, already preparing her argument.

"I do, and that's why this conversation is so important. She needs your strength, your indomitable character, more than ever right now. You can't cry, Rachel. I know when she does it's like you die inside, and you'd burn the whole world to make it better. But you can't. If you break down she'll bury it, she'll bury her feelings to take care of you. I can't, as her friend, let that happen to her again. I'm hoping, fuck, I'm praying that with you there she'll let herself feel, for once, without being terrified of it."

"I - " her voice cracked and she sniffled hard to stop the tears attempting to escape. "I will do everything I can."

"I know you will, you love her."

"I do."

"And you know what? She loves you too. Don't forget that - even if she turns into Mr. Hyde."

Rachel sniffled again. "Thank you, Ryan, you're a really good friend."

"I try. You get back to Q and call me if you need to, any time."

"Goodbye, Ryan."

"Bye, Tadpole."

She slowly made her way back to Quinn, barely paying attention to anything around her. Her mind raced, too full of childhood memories; things she hadn't thought about in years.

"Hey," Quinn said and smiled when Rachel handed her the Redbull from her purse. "Thanks, I was just thinking that sounded good. You okay?"

Rachel managed not to snort at the question. If anyone should be asking that, she should have been the one asking Quinn. "Sure. Just tired, I guess."

Overhead, the announcement came for them to board and Rachel noticed how Quinn's grip tightened around the blue and silver can in her hand. She blanched and silently cursed herself for forgetting.

"Quinn, are you - the plane."

Quinn swallowed and stood up, shaking her head. "I'll be alright, I should have taken something, but we were in such a hurry, I forgot."

I did too, abandoning her tea, Rachel grasped Quinn's hand and stood up as well. She knew that Quinn was claustrophobic, having had to deal with it every now and then. Their crazy morning and last minute arrangements had taken over every spare thought, on top of her worries about the ordeal they were about to go through. Quinn didn't always have panic attacks, they seemed to sneak up on her at odd times. Occasionally in the elevator, the car, even crowds if they were dense enough, she'd have a mild panic attack. Rachel had grown accustomed to dealing with them, but that generally involved removing Quinn from the cause. They couldn't exactly step outside of an airplane. "How do you - I mean, can we get you some Dramamine or something? Would that help?"

"No, that's not - no. Um, I didn't even think to bring anything with me. I'll just have to deal with it. Can we pretend everything's fine?"

Nodding, Rachel tangled her fingers with Quinn's and gripped her bicep with her other hand. Quinn smiled weakly and briefly set her temple against the top of Rachel's head.

"Let's go get in line," Rachel said.

She could feel Quinn tensing up more and more as they walked towards the plane. As soon as they'd settled into their seats, she grabbed Quinn's hand again and tugged until muted hazel-green eyes met hers again. "So we have a layover in Detroit, right?"

"For an hour, probably long enough for us to navigate our way to the gate. Then a short hop down to Cleveland."

"Maybe we could recruit one of those golf carts to take us to our gate? I'm always afraid of trying to run across an airport. While it's terribly romantic in movies, if not cliche, my stature makes me nervous. I can't take long strides like you can."

The plane lurched under them and Quinn's eyes went wide as they darted around the cabin. "You're not that short, you know, it's just an excuse. Plus, you have the longest damn legs, I'm pretty sure you could easily keep up with me."

Rachel hummed in agreement and reached over to cup Quinn's chin, gently guiding her to look back at her. "I guess you're right. Would you carry me piggyback style across the airport?"

Quinn blinked and cocked her head. "Seriously?"

"Of course, any request that outlandish would have to be serious."

"Now you're just being silly."

"Am not." Rachel stuck her tongue out then laughed at the face Quinn pulled in response. "Say I was wearing ridiculous, yet stylish, heels and my feet hurt from walking all day. You wouldn't carry me to save me the pain?"

"I'm not sure I should even attempt to continue this conversation."

"Quinn," she dragged out the name in a petulant whine and winked at the smirking stewardess who'd heard their conversation.

Sighing, Quinn shook her head and pulled Rachel's hand over into her lap. "You know I would."

Satisfied, Rachel leaned over and kissed her cheek sweetly. "Of course you would. So after Detroit we arrive in Cleveland and then it's a two hour drive back to Lousy Lima."

"Oh my god!" Quinn barked, shooting up in her seat.

"What?" Rachel jerked and scanned the cabin for what had caused the sudden alarm. Her thoughts jumped into overdrive. They hadn't even left the runway yet and all she could think was FIRE, HIJACKERS! But the stewardesses were still calm, and nobody else was panicking, so she started to wonder what they could have forgotten to cause the shocked look on Quinn's face. "Oh no, you left the stove on, didn't you!"

"The stove?" Quinn looked utterly perplexed at the suggestion. "No, what? No. We didn't even - why would the stove have been on for me to accidentally leave on? I'm going to meet your Dads in four hours!"

"That just now occurred to you?" Rachel laughed and kissed Quinn's cheek again. "You were there when I called them and asked if they could pick us up."

"I know." With a groan, Quinn dropped her head into her palms and hid there. "It didn't register until just now. I've never met them and now I'm going to be in a car with them for two uninterrupted hours. What if they hate me? What if they're just waiting to rip me to shreds because of high school? Do they even know we're together?"

"First, they know I'm coming down with you and they know that the past is to be forgiven and forgotten. I was, after all, the only one who should really be holding a grudge if there were to be any grudge holding. They've been informed that I will not tolerate any mentions of our previous tumultuous relationship. Second, they aren't the kind of men who 'rip' people to shreds. Third," Rachel paused and fiddled with the latch on her seat-back tray. "I haven't spoken to them about the nature of our relationship. I didn't want to over the phone. They're planning on coming up to see me for Chanukkah and I thought I'd tell them then. This will just present an opportunity to tell them before then."

Quinn picked her head up from her hands and wrapped an arm around Rachel's shoulders. "That's probably a good idea, telling them in person I mean, I - well, I don't know what to say. How do you think they'll take it?"

"Considering who we're talking about? They'll ask a million questions and probably need a little time to adjust to the idea. Like any parent, I would think. I hope, anyway. I've never seen them as different from other parents, except in extreme cases." She shuddered as she thought of Quinn's parents, and thanked God again for her fathers. Sure, they'd been less than helpful when it came to certain female problems, but they'd always tried. She'd never forget her Daddy trying to talk to her about puberty. He'd shaved his legs with her when it came time for that 'big' step, so they could learn together. It was one of her favorite memories - the two of them sitting on the side of the tub, pants rolled to their knees, with a can of shaving cream and matching pink razors. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I'm honestly not that worried. I love you and nothing anyone says is going to change my mind. I refuse to hide or be shamed for who I am, and you're a big part of me."

"You always say the right things," Quinn said. She smiled lopsidedly and nuzzled the side of Rachel's head. "How about old friends? Anyone you'd like to say 'hello' to while we're in town?"

"Is there even anyone left to meet up with? The only person I keep in contact with anymore is Kurt, and that's because he's in New York."

"Mike, Santana and Brittany are in Los Angeles. Mike's some crazy choreographer and Britt works with him when she's not out on tour with some pop star or other. Santana, as you know, is a plastic surgeon, which is so funny to me I can barely stand it."

Rachel stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine Santana in scrubs instead of her Cheerios uniform."Is it sad that I always picture her with a cane, popping pills and shredding people with her acerbic wit?"

"No more House reruns for you," Quinn said and rolled her eyes playfully. Rachel punched her shoulder with a light huff. House reruns were sacred, after all, it was almost worse than threatening to take away sex. Almost.

"We'll see about that, first you have to finish telling me where the Glee club ended up!"

"Mercedes followed her Dad's footsteps, she's a dentist in Cleveland. Tina lives there too, she teaches High School theater. Artie does some sort of computer something or other and Puck joined the Marines."

Rachel stared at her, mouth open. "Okay, how the hell do you know all of that?" Puck in the Marines? The haircut thing kind of made sense, but soldiers were supposed to follow orders. That didn't seem very Noah.

"FBI, remember?" Quinn said and smirked.

"Really?"

"No, it's called Facebook."

"You have Facebook?"

Quinn shrugged. "I'm more shocked that you don't."

"I have a fan page," Rachel said, then snorted. "Puck in the Marines, unbelievable. I deleted the other account when I realized I didn't have much need for it other than picture storage. I call people if I want to keep in touch with them. Are you even allowed to have Facebook? Isn't that against some sort of FBI rule?"

"It's not like I post details about my job," Quinn sighed. She picked at her jeans and cast a quick look out the window, watching the runway approach with no small amount of trepidation.

Rachel bit into her bottom lip and stared at her lap. "Does your relationship status..."

Quinn's smile returned as she nudged Rachel's shoulder. "It says 'in a relationship', no need for jealousy."

Blowing out the breath she'd been holding, Rachel sagged then smirked. "Good. Can't have anyone trying to Facebook date you."

"You're silly."

"So you keep saying." She ran through the list of Glee club members that Quinn had mentioned and stiffened when she realized the name that had been absent. "Finn is the only one in Lima, isn't he?"

"Finn runs the Hummel-Hudson auto shop in Lima," Quinn confirmed softly. "I'm sure he'd be happy to see you."

"Maybe," Rachel said and turned her head to rest it against Quinn's shoulder. "I'm not certain of that, or if I want to see him."

Quinn didn't say anything more, as uneasy with the topic as Rachel. She just kissed the top of Rachel's head instead.

They sat in silence, both shaking their heads when the stewardess politely asked them if they'd like a drink. Eventually, Rachel pulled herself up from the well of memories she'd tumbled down and sat up from Quinn's half embrace. "May I have your iPod? I'd like to listen to our playlist."

"Sure," Quinn said and dug into her bag at her feet for the device.

While she was busy searching, Rachel pried her own free and held it out for Quinn. "I made one too."

"You did?"

"Yes." Smiling shyly, Rachel watched Quinn's eyes light up as she snatched the iPod from her long fingers. "I thought perhaps we could combine them sometime? An ultimate Faberry playlist?"

"Faberry?"

"It's our portmanteau," Rachel informed her and brushed her bangs back from her face. "I went through quite a few until I found one I liked. 'Quinchel' sounded funny to me and I didn't like "Rainn" as much."

"I love it," Quinn said. "Faberry."

Bobbing her head and shrugging, Rachel started untangling her ear-buds. "It sounds right, doesn't it?"

"It sounds right," Quinn repeated in agreement. Giggling, she set her own ear-buds into her ears and waited until Rachel was poised so they could hit play at the same time.

They shared a smile before Rachel put her head back on Quinn's shoulder and curled up as best she could, one arm across Quinn's waist.


	2. Chapter 2

Rachel had never seen Quinn move as fast as she did when the fasten seat-belts light went off and they were cleared to get off the plane.

Before she could even think about standing up and grabbing her backpack, Quinn had snatched up both their bags and vanished.

Poof. Gone.

Confused, yet amused, Rachel took her time, politely allowing other people to pass her before she made her own way. Of course as soon as she was free of the throng of weary departing passengers she saw Quinn standing off to the side, shifting from foot to foot with a sheepish look plastered on her face.

“It’s okay,” Rachel soothed and slipped the pink backpack off Quinn’s shoulder to put it in it’s rightful place on her own. “I understand. Maybe we can get you something while we’re in Lima to help with the return flight?”

“I don’t want to think about it,” Quinn said quickly, blushing all the way to the tip of her ears.

Rachel nodded and tilted her head up towards the terminal. “Shall we go?”

“Shall we?” Quinn looked at her from under her eyelashes and held out her arm. “Why yes, dear, I believe we shall.”

Pleased with herself for having alleviated the moment of near panic and embarrassment, Rachel smirked and looped her arm through Quinn’s. “How charming.”

“Only for you.”

They walked arm and arm through the busy terminal, sharing side long glances and laughing at their own playfulness. Rachel did a quick stutter step to match her stride to Quinn’s, only to have to do it all over again when Quinn deliberately messed her up.

People stared at them, a few whispering to their companions, but no one said anything and no one approached them. Quinn was grateful for the peace, not sure how she would handle being confronted, or how Rachel would. Of the two of them Rachel was better at dealing with people, so used to the attention. A few Rachel Berry fans had come up to them at the airport and Rachel, ever the star, was thrilled. She’d signed autographs and taken the time to speak with each person. Quinn had never seen her more relaxed.

It had been easy enough to step away and give Rachel the moment - besides Quinn was always careful with how much exposure she got around Rachel. Not that she was ashamed of their relationship or wasn’t proud of Rachel, she just wanted to keep her media face-time limited. For her job. But in Ohio it was different, they were more likely to attract attention, negative attention, for being a same-sex couple than for Rachel’s fame. A sad fact, but one they were both aware of; with her emotions so dangerously close to breaking through, Quinn was certain she would lose her temper or burst into tears at the slightest provocation. She wanted, needed, to avoid that – if only for Rachel’s sake. 

Though she felt she was on the cusp of shattering into a million pieces, Quinn smiled as she stretched out her gait and watched Rachel take huge, stomping, steps to try and stay in sync with her. There was no way Quinn was going to go out of her way to hide her relationship or ignore Rachel. 

It wasn’t until Rachel delightedly shrieked, “Dad!” that Quinn’s smile fell.

Rachel took off, dropping Quinn’s arm, and rushed straight into the arms of a short, bespectacled, man. He smiled so wide she was instantly reminded of Rachel’s ‘Broadway’ smile and her apprehension returned tenfold. She stood awkwardly, grasping her own forearm and watched the father-daughter reunion from a safe distance, not wanting to intrude... Or draw attention to her presence.

“Daddy!” Rachel cried as she caught sight of her other father walking into the airport. He opened his arms and staggered back a few steps when she crashed into his broad chest. Her giggles gave way to a squeal when he picked her up and spun her in a quick circle. “You shaved your head!” She touched her fingers lightly to the bared dark skin and scrunched up her nose. “Ew, it feels gross.”

“That’s what she said,” Hiram chimed in. He winked at Leroy and they squished Rachel between them for a full Berry family embrace. “No, but you’re right Rach, it’s disturbing, but apparently when one starts to lose hair it’s best just to shave it all off. Call me crazy but I would think some hair is better than none.”

“Hush you, I’m trying to greet my daughter,” Leroy said and swatted at him. “Also, could that count as a ‘that’s what she said’? Some hair is better than none?”

“Daddy,” Rachel groaned and squirmed away from them. Leroy reached down to ruffle her hair but she dodged with practiced ease and held up both hands. “No, uh-uh, don’t touch the hair. I know you’re envious, but it’s still off limits. And if either one of you says ‘that’s what she said’ one more time I’m getting on a return flight right now.”

“Listen to her, all grown up,” Hiram said and pulled her back into him with one arm. “I miss the days of pull ups, weewoos, and Little Mermaid sing-alongs.”

Rachel stomped her foot. “Can we please refrain from embarrassing me for just a little longer? You haven’t even met Quinn yet. Surely you can hold off until we’re in the car to spill all the childhood stories?”

The mood shifted so quickly Rachel was sure someone had set a fan on them to blow all the cold air from outside directly onto their party.

“Bring her over here then, which one is she?” Leroy asked. He glanced down at Hiram, shrugged, and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

“Quinn,” Rachel called out and waved her over to the group. “Quinn, the tall bald one is Leroy, the short one with the awful glasses is Hiram.”

Both men were so focused on Quinn they didn’t even protest the description. 

For Hiram, all he saw was a little girl, intimidating in her effortless good looks, but broken, fragile, in a way eerily reminiscent of Rachel. She had a vulnerability to her that he would spot a mile away. Suddenly those stories that Rachel had graced them with all those years ago, of the annoyingly perfect ice Queen, made sense. People coped with their insecurities in different ways, Quinn hid hers behind a ‘mean girl’ façade. Pity welled up in him and he looked up at Leroy. 

Understanding passed between them with that simple glance. Rachel had a way of bringing home ‘strays’, as Hiram called them, she was a protector, a healer, and it seemed her latest catch was standing before them.

Quinn approached them cautiously, never letting go of her forearm until it was time to shakily extend her hand. “Mr. and Mr. Berry, I’m Quinn Fabray. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Both men shook her hand with polite, if somewhat strained, smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Quinn. Please call us Leroy and Hiram; it’s confusing with all the Mr.’s thrown around. How was your flight?” Leroy said lowly, warmly.

Rachel’s eyebrows lifted towards her hairline at the tone he was using, but she stayed quiet, snuggled under Hiram’s arm.

“It was longer than I remembered,” Quinn said with a grimace. Then she straightened, back ramrod straight, and reminded herself of who she was. Special Agent in Charge Quinn Fabray was not a coward, she was confident, well-spoken, educated, and she’d be damned if she messed up this crucial first meeting because she was feeling less than so.

Frowning slightly at the wall she witnessed go up in Quinn’s eyes, Rachel sucked in a deep breath and decided to go bold. She un-tucked herself from Hiram and grabbed Quinn’s arm with both hands, pulling it against her body. “Quinn’s claustrophobic and we both forgot about it in our haste to leave this morning.”

Hiram stiffened as Rachel kissed Quinn’s cheek, holding her lips against pale skin for longer then he would consider a ‘friendly peck’. Between that, the intimate way she was holding onto Quinn’s arm and the way she used ‘we’ to describe their morning... He swallowed and felt Leroy’s arm tense around him.

“Sorry to hear that, Quinn,” Leroy said. “And I’m so sorry about your father. If there’s anything you need you feel free to let us know.”

Quinn nodded, wondering how many times she was going to hear ‘sorry’ in the next couple of days. “Thank you. Um, I’m just, I’m going to go get the suitcase, Rach.”

Rachel tracked her movements and only faced her parents once she was sure Quinn was out of earshot. “I’m going to go ahead and guess that you have questions, based on the way you’re currently gawking at me.”

“I don’t know how to - “ Hiram started then waved his hand at Leroy. “How do I ask?”

“Sweetheart, are you dating Quinn?” Leroy asked bluntly, smiling guiltily when Hiram slapped at his arm. “What? That’s how you ask.”

“Quinn and I have been together for nearly a year,” Rachel answered just as candidly. She’d been expecting dramatic reactions from them; after all she’d never kept her romances secret from them before. And this one was different, no matter how normal it all felt to her. However, her imagination didn’t quite match up with the reality of her parents reactions.

“What?” Hiram yelped, while Leroy’s jaw fell open, and their eyes went wide. “A year? You’ve been dating another woman for a year and you didn’t tell us?”

Crossing her arms, Rachel mentally prepared herself for the barrage of questions. She wasn’t able to completely mask her wince in time and they both caught it.

“Where did I go wrong?” Hiram asked the airport ceiling and paced away from them, mumbling to himself.

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Honestly, is your problem that I’m dating someone of the same sex or is it because I’m dating Quinn Fabray? If it’s the former I’m going to have to cry hypocrisy from the tip of my lungs.”

Leroy sighed and ran a hand over his head, the same way he’d done when he’d had a full head of hair. “Rachel, we’re just surprised. You didn’t say anything to us about it and a year is a long time for you to hide something of this... - this magnitude. It’s odd behavior for you. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“Yes, like when you decided to have a girlfriend?” Hiram said, returning to Leroy’s side. He took his perfectly clean glasses off and swiped at them with a cloth, still shaking his head. “Normally we get a phone call after a first date and you tell us every, single, infinitesimal detail.”

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone; it didn’t seem like the right thing to do because I wasn’t sure how you would react. With the show and you guys not being able to come up... I wanted to tell you in person and we didn’t get a chance to see each other all year.” She shrugged one slender shoulder and cleared her throat. “I am sorry that it’s taken so long. I wanted to tell you so badly, but I knew you’d be confused and I thought it would be rude to announce my relationship with Quinn over the phone.”

“Rachel, what do you really know about her? I mean, honey, I agreed to let bygones be bygones about your past when she was your friend. But you’re in what sounds like a pretty serious relationship with someone who didn’t treat you very well for a lot longer than a year. You came home crying to us about Quinn on more than one occasion, and made excuses for her off and on. That doesn’t sound like stable ground for any sort of relationship, friendship or otherwise, and it worries me. It sounds like you want to fix her, which is noble, but maybe you got caught up in that and confused your care for her for something more than it is.” Leroy dipped his head and caught Rachel’s glare. He held a hand to his chest and tried to smile reassuringly. “I’ll agree that people can change, but you can understand why we’re worried, right? You’ve never even mentioned being interested in women before.”

“I understand and still can’t believe you! How dare you belittle my feelings! I may be a drama Queen, but I know my own heart. You know, I was expecting to have to defend my relationship to her family but not to you two.” Rachel all but growled as she flung her hands into the air. “I never mentioned being interested in women because it never needed to be a topic for discussion before now. I didn’t have a reason to bring it up and now I do. So here, it has been brought to your attention.”

Hiram opened his mouth but Rachel held up her hand, effectively cutting him off. “I’m not finished. What do I know about Quinn? I know that she still kicks herself about stupid things that happened when we were teenagers. I know that she’ll probably never stop apologizing for it either. I know that she’s better for me than any of the assholes I’ve dated. I know that she’s there when I need her, and that I’ll never have to question that, or her devotion to our relationship. Quinn has proven that she will always choose me. I know that she loves all of the things about me that most people can’t handle - including you two. I know that I love her and that she loves me.”

Now Leroy acted like he wanted to interrupt and this time Rachel really did growl. “No, I’m still not done. You’ll get your turn. Quinn is honest, courageous, caring, and everything I could ever hope to wish for. She took a bullet for me! I don’t deserve her, and I’m blessed with her because she disagrees for some unfathomable reason. This weekend is going to be a nightmare, it’s going to be hard enough on her, and that’s without you adding to it. Thanks for that, I’m so appreciative of the fact that I get to add to the stress she’s already under. So worry away, go ahead. Your concern or disapproval or whatever is not going to change the fact that I’m completely, head over heels, stupid in love with Quinn Fabray!”

Panting, Rachel finally stopped and glowered hotly at her fathers, daring them with a defiant tilt of her chin.

Hiram jabbed Leroy in the ribs with his elbow, too stunned at this point to attempt a response. Leroy cleared his throat.

“You’re our baby, Rachel. We just want to protect you. That’s all.”

“You see that woman over there?” Rachel pointed over at Quinn who was off in the distance, intently scanning the luggage circling the carousel. “The pretty one who looks like her heart’s being ripped apart? That’s my baby, and you better believe that I’ll defend her, fiercely, and without a second thought.”

“Okay, I’m sorry - we’re sorry, sweetheart,” Leroy said. He cupped Rachel’s heaving shoulders gently, genuinely apologetic for upsetting her so much. “We haven’t given you a chance, you’re right. It’s a bit of a shock, that’s all. You just dropped something pretty huge on us and we need some time to adjust. I’m not saying we approve or disapprove of Quinn. But maybe we could start over? Could you bring her back over here and we can try this again, the right way? Then maybe while you’re in town we could have a family sit down and talk this out some more. I think once the shock wears off and we’ve all calmed down we could have a more open dialogue, but with a little less defensiveness from you? We’re not attacking you, Rach, I promise. This is something for us to talk through.”

“Honey, your Daddy and I love you more than anything in this world. We want you to be happy and if Quinn is the one who makes you happy, well, then we would like to be ecstatic for you. Can you give us the chance?” Hiram circled around Leroy and captured Rachel’s hand warmly between both of his.

Rachel deflated, chin against her chest, and blushed crimson. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I think I’ve had all of that prepared for Quinn’s relatives since this morning and it was waiting to leap out at the first opportunity. She’s hurting and I want to make it better; the idea of someone, anyone, making her feel worse makes me so angry.”

“You’ve always been, um, theatrical?” Leroy said and bumped the toe of his shoe against hers. “It’s probably a good thing you unleashed it on us and not the Fabray’s. I can’t see any of them reacting very well.”

“For all we know they’re lovely people,” Hiram said with a weak smile. Rachel leaned into him and buried her face in his chest as he kissed the top of her head and rocked them back and forth.

“Quinn’s wariness about seeing them makes me believe otherwise,” she said.

“Go get your girl, Rachel.” Leroy offered. “I want to meet her properly; as your girlfriend.”

\---

They’d been on the road for all of ten minutes before Hiram couldn’t stand the silence anymore. The tension was almost suffocating. In the rear-view mirror he saw Rachel sitting in the middle, wrapped around Quinn so thoroughly he had to wonder how she’d managed to do so with her seat belt on. Quinn had her arm around Rachel’s shoulders, eyes closed and blonde head against the window, but he knew she wasn’t sleeping. He caught sight of her thumb idly sweeping back and forth over Rachel’s wrist, like she was comforting Rachel instead of the other way around.

Rachel met his gaze in the mirror and smiled so sadly it made him ache. Her expression clearly said, “see, Dad?”

“So, Quinn, where did you go to college?” Hiram asked, twisting to look into tired eyes when they blinked open.

“Georgetown University,” she answered with a small, but proud, smile. “It’s in Washington DC.”

Leroy whistled appreciatively and peeked at the mirror. “That must have cost a fortune.”

Quinn merely shrugged and her smile grew when Rachel craned up to whisper something to her. “Student loans, scholarships, and a god awful job paid the way. I’m actually glad to have worked my way through school, it was a good experience for me; I learned a lot about myself and it certainly made me try harder in my classes, even if I hated them.”

“What did you major in?” Hiram asked. He didn’t want to play twenty questions with Quinn, or seem like he was testing her in any way... but he sort of was. After all, she was dating his daughter and he and Leroy had an almost full-on questionnaire prepared for potential in-laws. He was fairly sure that Rachel actually had a typed up form for her dates to fill out. It was the Berry way.

“Psychology,” Quinn beamed then, a full smile that nearly knocked the breath from Hiram and Leroy. Rachel smirked, having seen their dazzled expressions and pressed a soft kiss to Quinn’s throat. She knew what her fathers were doing and wasn’t the least bit concerned about it. Quinn was going to blow them out of the water - in fact she would be surprised if they didn’t demand that she marry Quinn. 

“You’re a psychologist?” Leroy asked, pleased with that career choice. He’d never said anything to Rachel, or even Hiram, but he’d wanted Rachel to settle down with someone like a doctor, or a lawyer. Someone educated and solid, who could put up with her antics and hold their ground during the inevitable tantrums - a psychologist would be perfect.

“No,” Quinn shook her head. “No, I’m not a psychologist. I don’t have my Doctorate, just my Bachelors.”

Hiram cocked his head and turned again, “Well the obvious next question is simple. What do you do for a living?”

“I work for the FBI.”

Leroy’s eyebrows shot up, comically looking like they were trying to flee his face entirely, and Hiram’s jaw dropped.

Rachel couldn’t hold back her laughter and Quinn’s dopey smile only made the moment that much better. “You should see your faces!”

“FBI, the FBI?” Hiram squeaked. Never would he have guessed that. Quinn looked, well, she looked like a damn model, or maybe an actress. He tried to imagine her as an Agent Scully clone and shook his head when he couldn’t quite get the mental picture to work. Rachel usually dated people involved in theater, in one form or another. Aside from the one guy whose name he couldn’t remember, B-something. He’d been a half-assed artist slash musician who played piano in a bar.

“I wasn’t aware there was another,” Quinn joked. “I work out of the New York field office in the Violent Crimes Unit.”

“She’s in charge,” Rachel crowed and giggled when Quinn rolled her eyes. “Just like always.”

“She took a bullet for me” rang in Hiram’s head. He’d thought Rachel was just embellishing Quinn’s love for her, not being literal. He swallowed hard. “You carry a gun?”

Quinn’s smile fell, but didn’t completely fail. She nodded. “Yes.”

Tucked under Quinn’s chin, Rachel’s mirth left her and she shuddered as the memory assaulted her. She pulled her hand up and set her fingertips under Quinn’s collarbone, touching the puckered scar hidden beneath her shirt. It was a constant reminder of how close they’d been to saying goodbye. She’d always hear the screaming, and remember the dark red against her hands and clothes. A lot of her memories had gotten hazy with time, but not that one – it was still sharp and clear, as though it had happened yesterday.

Quinn pressed her hand warmly over Rachel’s. “I’m here,” she murmured, low enough that only Rachel would hear.

“You’ve been shot,” Leroy stated directly, recalling his daughters heated words. He kept checking the mirror as he drove, unable to turn as Hiram was to see the entire exchange between Rachel and Quinn. It didn’t matter, he saw enough.

“It was my fault,” Rachel said and clutched Quinn tighter.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Quinn disagreed, stroking her hand through Rachel’s hair. “We were out at a karaoke bar, and Rachel had someone stalking her. She was singing something clearly meant for me and he decided if he couldn’t have her, nobody could. I heard someone shout ‘gun’ and I reacted quickly enough to get in front of her just in time.”

Rachel whimpered and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “That was the worst night of my life.”

Hiram reached over and took Leroy’s hand, his big brown eyes welling with tears. “That – I can’t. Quinn, we didn’t…”

Leroy tugged at Hiram’s hand and caught Quinn’s calm gaze and held it, hoping his sincerity and respect for her would translate through his reflection. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Quinn said, speaking to the top of Rachel’s head. She lowered her cheek down to rest on ink-colored hair. “You never have to thank me for that.”

Leroy decided, right then and there, doctor’s and lawyer’s would never be able to compete with Quinn. Hiram had his hand in an almost painful grip, so he wracked his brain for something to say that might liven the somber atmosphere of the car. “Rachel always did want to be a damsel in distress,” he teased lightly and winked at Hiram.

Settling back in his seat, face stuck in a shocked expression, Hiram wiped at his eyes and pulled his glasses off to clean them again.

Rachel pulled away from Quinn and sniffled mightily before she smiled through pouty lips. “My knight in FBI issue body armor.”

“Whatever you say, Princess,” Quinn snorted, then laughed, and soon the whole vehicle was chuckling along with her. 

“That is disgustingly cute,” Leroy said. His grin widened when another thought occurred to him. “Say, did Rachel ever tell you about Waffelo day?”

Quinn arched an eyebrow and smirked when Rachel started to protest the topic change. “No, can’t say I’ve heard of Waffelo day.”

Leroy launched into the tale of little Rachel and her inability to say ‘waffle’ - much to Rachel’s chagrin. But Quinn was smiling and laughing again, so shel couldn’t bring herself to stop the embarrassing stories. It was worth the flushed cheeks to see Quinn engaged again, even if only for a short time.

The stories continued, and so did the laughter, but too soon they found themselves crossing back into a place both had sworn never to return to. Quinn’s smile slipped and Rachel gripped her hand tighter as they neared the Fabray house.

The car rolled to a stop and no one moved for several, unbearably, long seconds.

Finally Quinn took in a deep, shuddery, breath, and shoved open her door. She recaptured Rachel’s hand as soon as she was able and they stayed latched on to one another, even to retrieve Quinn’s battered suitcase from the trunk.

Leroy rolled his window down and waved to get their attention. “Girls, look, if things - if the house is too crowded and you need to come stay with us, let us know.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said and dragged Quinn back to the side of the vehicle so she could kiss her Daddy’s cheek. “You are the best Dad’s a girl could ask for.”

“We know,” Hiram said. He blew her a kiss, waved at Quinn, and then they were pulling away. Leaving Quinn and Rachel standing on the sidewalk, staring up at the house with matching looks of dread.

“Whatever is about to happen, I love you very much.” Quinn said before she started up the driveway, towing both Rachel and the suitcase behind her.

Rachel swallowed hard, then pulled her shoulders back and squared her jaw. 

“I love you too.”


	3. Chapter 3

Rachel wasn’t sure how long they stood at the front door – neither able to take their eyes off the doorbell, or summon the courage necessary to push it. Behind the imposing dark wood, she could hear the rumble of conversation and the loud thump of feet on stairs. She took in a deep breath, held it for ten seconds, and then let it out in a rush, cheeks puffing out with the effort. “Quinn, do you want me to?”

“No, I’ve got it.” Quinn shook her head, bit her lip, and punched the doorbell. Didn’t poke it, or press it with her thumb – she punched it. Albeit gently, but the gesture still made Rachel cringe. She gripped Quinn’s hand tighter, tan fingers clutching at pale ones, and wrapped her other hand around Quinn’s bicep. The chime of the doorbell seemed ridiculously loud – Rachel thought she should perhaps mention it to Quinn’s mother. Honestly, it wasn’t polite to frighten already terrified guests with such loud noises. She did appreciate how melodic it was though, despite the volume, and couldn’t help but hum the pitches back.

Quinn quirked an eyebrow down at her and Rachel immediately ceased her humming. Grinning weakly, she shrugged her shoulders and shuffled her feet against the welcome mat. “Sorry, nervous habit.”

The door opened before Quinn could reply; her jaw snapped shut with an audible click and she went completely stiff as Judy flew out and tightly embraced her.

“Quinn!”

Reluctantly, Rachel released Quinn and backed away to stay out of the reunion. It gave her a chance to study Judy a little more anyway, not that she’d ever admit to ‘sizing up’ her girlfriend's mother, like she was a threat she needed to assess. She just wanted to watch how they interacted. Rachel could go on and on about her fathers, much like she could with any topic really, but Quinn rarely spoke of her parents; when she did she was short and very quiet. Quinn’s reticence to speak about her family was certainly understandable. She figured it had to do with her memories of being pregnant and homeless during their sophomore year. If she was completely honest, even just with herself, Rachel wasn’t a huge fan of Judy already. Quinn being cast aside reminded her a little too much of Shelby.

She shivered and shoved those thoughts away just in time to see Judy let Quinn go.

“And you must be Rachel,” Judy said, her smile slightly too wide. Her face looked like it might crack any second.

Rachel wondered if Judy would cry later when they wouldn’t be able to see or hear it.

“Yes Ma’am, Rachel Berry. It’s very nice to make your acquaintance.” She held out her hand and put on her very best stage smile. Quinn’s was the only genuine one out of the three of them, Rachel could tell because it wasn’t a full smile, and it was directed right at her.

Judy shook her hand limply, warm fingers barely slipping into Rachel’s palm before they were gone again. “It’s so nice of you to come with Quinn.”

“Of course,” Rachel reached out and took Quinn’s hand back, the pressure in her chest easing considerably with the simple action.

“Well, Quinn, I’ve set up your old bedroom for you and I wasn’t sure where Rachel – “

“Rachel stays with me, Mom.” Quinn met her mother’s wide eyes calmly and ignored the blush dusting Judy’s cheeks.

“That’s – That’ll work out fine then. We’ve got a full house.” Judy opened the door wide and gestured for them to go ahead into the foyer. “Your Uncle Phillip is here, and Aunt Norah and Lidia with their families.”

“The triplets are here?” Quinn asked. Rachel glanced up at her, then around the spacious foyer. It was the first time she’d ever set foot in the Fabray home; she couldn’t deny that she was curious. Seated on couches and chairs in the room to their right, Quinn’s family stopped talking and Rachel could feel eyes on them. Not the same way that she felt when paparazzi took her photo, or when fans saw her, or even when she was on stage. This sensation wasn’t warm, or annoying - it felt slimy, like she was being judged. It was hard not to turn her face into Quinn’s shoulder and hide. Neither of them were strangers to discrimination, Rachel had dealt with it growing up and being a public figure. Quinn had a different experience, less public for sure, but no less difficult. Feeling it from family was going to be harder, for both of them.

“And Derek,” Judy replied, interrupting Rachel’s thoughts. Wringing her hands she looked anywhere but at Rachel as she continued. “Rachel, the kitchen is to the left there and the living room is to our right. I could - would you like a tour?”

“That would be lovely,” Rachel said, and felt Quinn squeeze her fingers.

“Hi, Quinn,” Cam said, groaning as she stood from the couch and waddled her way over to them.

Rachel had never been happier to see someone. “Cam!”

“And baby,” Quinn grinned and reached for her sister. Cam hugged them both, as best she could, and giggled when Quinn set both hands against her stomach. “Hi there, baby.”

“Rachel, you want to touch?” Cam asked, seeing Rachel’s large eyes focused so intently on her.

“May I?”

“Of course,” reaching out she grasped a small tan hand in hers and pulled it over. “There you go.”

“Wow,” Rachel whispered and hesitantly added her other hand as well. “There’s a person in there!”

“Oh trust me, I know,” Cam smiled over at Quinn and surreptitiously inclined her head in Rachel’s direction. 

“Quinn,” another voice called.

Quinn turned her attention from Rachel’s awestruck expression and found her aunt standing from the couch as well. “Hi, Aunt Lidia, everyone.” She waved and forced herself away from Rachel, Cam and her mother to move into the living room. Every step felt like it took an hour but eventually she was standing before the questioning gaze of her family and trying desperately to keep from drowning in the memory of the last time she’d seen her father.

Sitting in the same place Russell had been the night that she’d become homeless, was her Uncle Phillip. She looked into his frosty blue eyes, saw the way he was clenching his jaw and quickly looked away.

“Are you a movie star?” her cousin, Derek, asked. Rachel jerked at the question and spun. Clearly any mention of ‘star’ meant her.

“No, I’m on Broadway,” she corrected with a dazzling smile. “Have you seen one of my shows?”

“You were in a magazine my girlfriend was reading,” Derek said, suitably star-struck.

Quinn tried not to laugh as he fluffed his hair and sat up straighter in his seat. Last time she’d seen him he’d done everything he could to come off like Edward from Twilight - with all the mysteriousness, pasty complexion, and of course, the hair. Always with the hair.

“I’m sorry, I’m being rude,” Quinn said, smiling encouragingly at Rachel who suddenly seemed smaller than normal. “Rachel, this is Lidia, Adam, Derek, Norah, Steve and Philip.” She pointed around the room at each name. “Everyone, this is Rachel.”

Judy jumped in before anyone could ask the obvious question written on their faces - why was Rachel here with Quinn? “Quinn, why don’t you catch up and I’ll show Rachel the house.”

There was no time for protest, or to beg for Quinn to come with. Rachel barely managed a quick glance before she was dragged away up the stairs.

As soon as they were out of sight Judy dropped Rachel’s wrist like it scalded her and started wringing her hands again. “I thought maybe I’d show you where you’d be staying first? Oh, I should have brought the suitcase up...”

“That’s alright, Quinn will grab it and I’d very much like to see her room.” Rachel clasped her hands together against her stomach and made sure to stay a good distance from Judy. She wasn’t afraid of her, but she didn’t want to force herself on Judy, or make her any more uncomfortable. The trip was about Quinn, and fighting with Judy would only make it worse. Rachel was unused to censoring herself, but for Quinn she would do her very best to be polite.

“It’s not exactly like Quinn left it, I redecorated; most of her things were already gone. It was hard for me to have her room like she was still here.”

Rachel nodded, not surprised in the least. She paused to touch her fingers to a picture of Quinn, tracing over the bright grin she loved. “She looks like sunshine.”

“That’s at her Academy graduation,” Judy said unnecessarily. Quinn was holding up her credentials in the photo, with an equally elated Judy holding onto her arm. “I was so proud of her. I never imagined she’d do something like that. My Quinnie in the FBI.” 

Not having a response for that, at least not a very friendly one, Rachel picked the picture off the wall, hoping that holding it closer would give her some strength. 

“Let’s just - Quinn’s room is right here,” Judy said, gently pulling the frame from Rachel’s hands and hastily returning it to its place on the wall, hands noticeably shaking.

All Rachel wanted was to go back downstairs and glue herself to Quinn’s side. Anxiety returned in a heady rush, hitting her so hard she was briefly lightheaded. She’d left Quinn downstairs on her own and her protective instincts were screaming for her to go back immediately. God only knew how long the fake pleasantries would last. 

Rachel followed Judy’s lead into the room she’d be sharing with Quinn and boldly walked right past her host up to the bed. She touched the dark green comforter and traced her index finger over the black felt of a leaf. “I like it, the colors are lovely.”

Judy made no move to cross the threshold, so Rachel sat on the bed and made a big show of looking around. There were black and white photos of trees decorating the walls, and a smattering of the expected furniture. All in all the room was like something straight out of a catalogue, and Rachel had no doubt that’s exactly where everything came from. She wanted to know what it had looked like before Quinn had left.

“Thank you, I’ve been thinking about re-painting. Changing up the house has become a hobby of mine; it’s relaxing even though it can be frustrating.” Judy fidgeted and then backed away from the door. “The guest bathroom is right across the hall,” she said, gesturing behind her.

With a nod Rachel stood up from the cushy mattress. “My Dad is a big fan of redecorating. He goes through themes once a year it seems. The only one I ever objected to was the ‘farm’ stage he went through.”

“That sounds interesting, I’ll have to ask him about it,” Judy said politely. Rachel knew she had no intention of every speaking to her Dad about anything, let alone interior design, but she took the offering with a small smile.

“I think I should probably get back to Quinn,” Rachel said, and refolded her hands in front of her. 

Judy’s expression wavered for a second, and then the smile was plastered back on as she nodded demurely. “Of course. She can show you the rest of the house later. You’ve seen all the important things already.”

All conversation halted as soon as Rachel hit the base of the stairs and she felt all of those eyes on her once again.

Not all of the stares were unfriendly. Mostly she saw general curiosity, though the frightening old man with the shockingly white hair and steely blue eyes was all but burning her with his expression.

Obviously Quinn’s gift for strikingly harsh glares and fierce facial expressions was inherited. 

She offered a wave, feeling foolish for doing so but not sure what else she could do. Say hello again? Announce an urgent issue that required she and Quinn leave?

If only homes came with fire alarms she could pull.

“Could I bother you for a glass of water?” Rachel asked in a squeak.

Quinn frowned, and started to get up, but Judy piped up before she could get all the way to her feet.

“Help yourself, dear. The kitchen’s right through the foyer.”

Rachel tried to communicate with Quinn with a look, but Quinn only scrunched up her forehead and mouthed ‘what?’ at her.

Quinn watched Rachel disappear from her field of vision and sagged back into the couch with a sigh. Cam patted her arm with a small smile and the room fell back into suffocating silence.

“So, Quinn, New York? How’s the city treating you?” Her Aunt Norah asked. “I’ve always wanted to visit. Maybe some day we’ll come up and you can show us around?”

All Quinn could manage was a grin as she tried to imagine her Aunt plus family staying in her apartment. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cam tilt her head and figured she was thinking the same thing. Rachel would love it though, showing people around her city. If she hadn’t made it on Broadway so fast she would’ve made one hell of a tour guide… “It’s wonderful, but I miss Washington sometimes. I think if I ever moved again I’d have to try for someplace without snow... or traffic that makes me want to scream. I would certainly love to take you on a tour of the city. Best let me do it and not Rachel, Miss Broadway can be a little zealous.”

That earned a few chuckles and Quinn tried to relax.

“You met Rachel there?” Lidia asked from next to her. “I’d love to hear her sing, a real Broadway star, she must be amazing.”

“Rachel and I met here in Lima - we went to school together - and she is very amazing.” She could just imagine the grin on Rachel’s face on hearing the praise. No matter how many times she’d heard compliments about her voice, she always brightened. 

“Oh, you’ve been friends for awhile then,” Norah said. 

Quinn wasn’t stupid, she knew they were tiptoeing around what they wanted to ask. Who, and how they would pose the question, that’s what she didn’t know.

She’d discussed it with Rachel while they’d been packing, if the topic of their relationship came up they would be honest. While she really didn’t want to bring up something so ‘controversial’ in her family’s minds at a funeral, she hadn’t hidden Rachel yet and she wasn’t about to start now.

“Emily has some pictures of you guys together. There aren’t very many but, like, Em totally thinks you’re Rachel’s girlfriend or whatever ‘cause the online article said you were.” Derek added nonchalantly. He was playing with his phone while he spoke, so he missed his mother’s scandalized expression. She flicked his ear and he ducked his head with a hiss. “What?”

“That’s because she is my girlfriend,” Quinn said easily, her voice completely even - stating a fact like any other. “I try not to get photographed with her a lot because of my job. It’s all about a good pair of sunglasses or a hat. So far they know we’re together, but I’m just a ‘mystery’ woman.”

“That’s disgusting,” Phillip ground out, speaking for the first time.

Cam gripped Quinn’s hand in hers and squeezed as they both stiffened at his gravelly voice.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion on it,” Quinn said frostily.

He sneered and leaned forward in his chair, long fingers gripping onto the arm rests so hard his knuckles turned white. “I knew that city would corrupt you, the second Russell told me you were moving there. I knew it. You’ve always been so easily swayed. I’m ashamed of you. Your father would be too. You are a Fabray and you’ve fallen into temptation again.”

Anger bubbled up in Quinn’s stomach and she started to stand again, ready for this fight. Phillip wasn’t her father, but he was close enough. All her life she’d wanted to stand up to Russell, it was a long time coming and now there was the opportunity to unleash a little.

Only Cam’s hand kept her anchored to her seat as Phillip was speaking again, his voice rising as he found his feet.

“Pregnant at sixteen, like some weak minded fool, spreading your legs for the first man that would look at you. I told Russell he was too gentle with you, I knew all along you’d disappoint him. Now you’re a dyke on top of it all. Next it will be drugs, and then what? How far into the mud are you planning on dragging the family name?”

“How dare -”

“I am not finished!” He bellowed.

Quinn risked a glance at her mother, but found Judy staring at her fingers. Her aunts were just as intently playing with their jewelry or hair. Derek had his phone in his lap and was texting away. The only person who seemed to be in the same room with Quinn was Cam, who clutched her hand so hard she was certain a finger was going to be broken.

In the kitchen Rachel was frozen, hand wrapped around a glass in the sink. It was overflowing – the water running over her fist - but she couldn’t pull away. Her heart was up in her throat, and beating so hard she felt like she might pass out.

“Maybe it’s not completely your fault. Maybe it was the whore you dared to bring to your fathers funeral who infected you. You should have stayed in that God forsaken city. You’re an insult to Russell’s name.”

Distantly, Quinn heard the sound of glass shattering, but she was too far gone in her fury to pay a mind to anything. The entire room had gone blurry, not with tears, but with the single - minded focus that only came from being violently angry.

She moved her jaw back and forth, felt it pop, and stayed very still. “If you ever call Rachel a whore again, or any other demeaning name for that matter, I will see to it that you join your brother. Say what you want about me, I honestly don’t fucking care anymore, but you leave her out of it.” Her voice was low, deceptively calm, and dangerously serious. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she meant that threat, absolutely - and that if anyone would be able to get away with murder it would be Quinn.

Rachel stayed in the kitchen – trembling from head to toe and watching the water push glass shards around the sink, one hand clapped over her mouth.

Quinn didn’t move again, and to everyone else it looked like she’d even quit breathing. Phillip had the decency to appear cowed; he sulked and scowled in the recliner, downing his tumbler of whatever liquor he’d been sipping on.

The only sound for a couple of seconds was Derek tapping away at his phone, until his mother reached over and stopped his fingers. “I think you can text Emily later, honey.”

When her motor skills returned, Rachel roughly wrenched the water off and whirled around to go and rescue Quinn. She had to get them out of the house - it was Hell and she was sure they’d be murdered in their sleep. All it would take was one phone call to her fathers and they’d be out of there, if Quinn even wanted to stay for the funeral. Rachel wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to get on the first flight home. While they’d been expecting nothing but hostility once the news broke, Rachel hadn’t been able to believe it would be this bad. She’d witnessed some awful things growing up in Lima with two fathers, and experienced her fair share of homophobia, but this? These people were supposed to be a family, a family she wanted to be a part of some day. Or she’d thought she’d wanted to be a part of. Where was the love? 

Where the hell was Judy Fabray while her brother-in-law spewed those hateful things at her youngest daughter?

“Quinn, your father requested you be the one to do give his eulogy.” Judy announced suddenly, as though she’d heard Rachel’s mental plea for her to speak up. Anything to try and dampen the tension running through the room like an electric current. Anything but that. Judy closed her eyes as soon as the last syllable escaped her lips. It had just popped out because she’d been thinking about it all day, how to bring it up with Quinn - this was not the time or the way she’d planned. After Phillip’s venomous words, anything involving Russell should have been stowed until later, when Quinn had calmed back down.

Quinn came back to life, leaping up from her seat on the couch so quickly that it startled Cam. “You can’t be serious!” She backed away, shaking her head slowly from side to side, and retreated towards the kitchen, never turning her back on them. One wrong move with this group, one sign of vulnerability, and she was certain she’d find a metaphorical knife in her back. Phillip was sneering at her, like a jackal ready to go for her jugular at the first chance. 

“What is wrong with you?” Cam hissed over at her mother. “Now? You bring it up now?”

Judy blushed and looked away from the dissecting eyes of her family. “There’s no need to shout. You can just say a few words, that’s all it is, Quinn.”

“No,” Quinn snarled and slapped her palm against the wall. Behind her, Rachel jumped at the sound and started to reach for Quinn’s arm. “No, absolutely not. Phillip can do it - give him a chance to preach to the masses about how evil I am. How it’s my wicked ways that sent Saint Russell to an early grave, to take his place with the other angels.”

She shrugged Rachel’s hand off of her shoulder, and ripped Judy’s keys from the hook in the entryway, storming out of the house amidst the whispers of her family. Rachel was hot on her heels, equally desperate to escape. “Quinn, wait!”

“I’m – I need to leave for awhile, Rachel. Get in the car.”

Rachel didn’t think twice, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling herself in. She didn’t know where they were going, but she was sure anywhere would be better than another second in that house.

They tore out of the driveway in Judy’s sporty red Volvo, and roared off down the street. Rachel could smell the stench of burnt rubber and decided to stay quiet until it dissipated.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn blurted out, slumping, her forehead nearly coming to rest on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have – please, I’m sorry about that. Did I scare you?”

“Baby, it’s fine. You’re under a lot of stress. “ Rachel swallowed down her fear and drew on all of her years on stage for her bearing. “Let me in, Quinn, please? Don’t hide the broken parts.”

She saw a muscle in Quinn’s jaw twitch and sighed, figuring she’d been locked out again.

Until Quinn spoke so differently from what she’d been expecting that Rachel couldn’t stop her flinch.

“He used to lock me in the closet.”

Rachel’s breath hitched in her chest, an inaudible gasp that painfully stayed, stuck low in her throat. Ryan’s words, his warning, surfaced in her head and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth to keep herself quiet. Quinn shot her a quick glance before returning her attention to the road, pale fingers nearly strangling the steering wheel.

“Sometimes it was only for an hour, others it was much longer. The first time, I was trying to get one of Mom’s sugar cookies off the kitchen counter. They were for the bake sale at the church and I wasn’t supposed to have them. Not even one. Dad caught me with my hand almost literally in the ‘cookie jar’. I spent three days in the coat closet. My Mom let me out, said my crying was too loud and she had a hangover. I think it was the excuse she gave Dad to let me out sooner then he’d wanted.”

Tears burned against the back of Rachel’s eyelids, so she grabbed hard at her thighs, digging her nails in and fighting back the stinging moisture as hard as she could. Don’t cry, Rachel. Don’t cry!

“He burned my hand once, on the cast iron fireplace at our old house. Not too badly. Not enough to have to go to the hospital anyway. He found me hiding in my room reading Harry Potter, - and said it was blasphemous – evil. He said that I’d brought evil into his house. Witchcraft is not of God. He burned the book, even though it was from the school library, and then he took my hand and set it on the top - to burn the devil off of me.”

Quinn didn’t cry - her eyes weren’t even wet as she continued in a soft, expressionless tone. “When I got older and it was too much of a fight to get me into the closet, he started using his belt. Afterwards, he’d cry and tell me he loved me so much. That he only punished me for my own good. That I’d disappointed him. He said he only did it because he loved me. My Mom put washrags against the welts, but she never cried or tried to keep it from happening. She just rescued me when she could. It stopped after middle school, when I finally figured out how to be what he wanted. Camille never got sent to the closet, never got the belt. He spanked her, sure, with his hand and that was it. But she was better than me, less stubborn, less rebellious. Mom said that I reminded Dad of himself, that he was only trying to keep me from growing up to be like him. He wanted me to be perfect, like Cam, but better because I was the ‘pretty’ one. Good little angels and pretty little girls, they weren’t supposed to be like me. Like him.”

A sob caught harshly in Rachel’s throat. She’d seen the scars on Quinn’s back, felt them under her hands, mapped them with her lips, and always assumed that they were battle scars from Quinn’s job. Her skin was littered with small, faded, reminders of rough nights. 

“I loved him so much; it broke my heart every time he cried, every time I let him down so badly. I felt guilty that he had to punish me. I wanted to be good; I want it so badly I thought I never wanted anything more. I couldn’t stop pushing against his hold, even though I knew what the consequences of defying him were.” She smiled gravely and turned to Rachel as they pulled up to a stoplight. The light reflected off her face, her eyes, and the sadness written there nearly shattered what was left of Rachel’s resolve.

Every broken smile. All the ruined relationships. Every snapped word. The slap. Her claustrophobia. It all made sense. Everything came back to a frightened child locked in a closet. A lonely, terrified girl.

Rachel ached with the need to hold Quinn, to crawl over the center console separating them and latch onto her with every intent to never let her go. She wanted to scream and cry and rage at the unfairness of it all. Or go back in time and beat the shit out of Russell Fabray, taking Quinn away from Judy for good. They didn’t deserve her. But it was too late for all of that; Quinn was staring at her now, in the present – waiting for her response.

“Quinn,” she said and closed her eyes. It was all she could manage.

“I could have, should have, called the police and reported him. Or even told a teacher. Someone. But I was scared and loved him, I didn’t want him to be mad at me or have them take me away from the only home I knew. And then he was a part of the Lima PD. A lot of the officers new me, and our family. When I think about it now, I think they would have believed me, but back then I was sure they would only be angry with me for making up stories.” Quinn chuckled humorlessly and shook her head. “I never told anyone. I got good at hiding things. The easiest way was to shove everyone and every feeling as far away as possible. I tried to pretend I was a Terminator, which is hilarious because I’m sure I would’ve gotten the belt for that. A soulless machine that kills people? Yeah, Dad would have loved that.”

Rachel couldn’t take it anymore; she was going to throw up or hyperventilate, or something with all the emotions clogging her throat. “Pull over.”

Quinn did as asked, so smoothly that it made Rachel want to scream all over again. She was falling to pieces and Quinn was as unreadable as ever. She was so angry, so spectacularly furious that she was physically shaking. It was like she was freezing to death though her skin felt like it was burning.

“Is that what you wanted to know, Rachel?” Quinn asked, not unkindly, but pointedly. She was staring right at her, calm, and collected, a pane of streak free glass without even a crack on the flawless surface. “Are those the broken parts you wanted to see?”

“I didn’t know,” Rachel said and clasped her hands tightly together between her knees. She focused on breathing, steadying herself by holding her breath and counting to ten before letting it out. “I didn’t know.”

“Ryan doesn’t even know,” Quinn admitted. Hesitantly, she stretched out and placed her palm over Rachel’s flexing fists. 

“I am... so mad,” Rachel admitted, shaking her head. “I can’t – Quinn, I’m so sorry.”

Rachel caught Quinn’s hand as she started to pull back, clutching it tightly. She risked her tenuous grip on tears to meet Quinn’s inexplicably shy expression. It smacked against her, stealing her breath. “I’m not mad at you. Please don’t think that I’m upset with you or unhappy that you told me. I’m – thank you, for telling me.”

“I know you’re not mad at me, but it’s nice to hear it out loud.”

“Can I hug you?”

Quinn nodded her head, with a subtle movement that most people would miss. Rachel unbuckled her seat belt and flew across the console immediately, wrapping both arms around Quinn’s neck. She buried her nose in Quinn’s hair and held her as tightly as she could.

“It’s okay, Rachel.”

Don’t assure me! Why are you consoling me! “It’s really not,” Rachel said against blonde hair. The soft strands tickled her lips as she spoke against them. “It’s not okay that you went through that, or all of the - the bullshit today. You’re so brave, Quinn, I can’t believe how brave you are.”

“That’s not true; I’m scared all the time - of everything.”

Reluctantly Rachel sat back, keeping hold of Quinn’s hand, needing the contact, the tether. “But you never quit, you never show it or let it get the best of you. Maybe it’s because you’re scared, but it just means you’re brave enough to feel it and keep going anyway.”

Quinn gestured at the steering wheel with the hand not entangled with Rachel’s. “Let’s get back on the road.”

“I love you,” Rachel said, desperately, earnestly, needing Quinn to hear it and believe her.

“Still?” 

“Always,” Rachel said cupping Quinn’s cheek with her free hand, as she directed red-rimmed, hazel-green eyes back onto her. “Maybe even more than before, if that’s possible.”

“You always know what to say,” Quinn said, mouth twitching at the corner in the barest hint of a smile.

Rachel waited until the car was back in motion and Quinn’s attention was back on the road before she reached up to discreetly wipe the pads of her fingers under her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

They’d been driving aimlessly down the dark streets of Lima for around thirty minutes when they passed it.

‘Hummel & Hudson Auto Repair’.

Quinn’s free hand was still encased in Rachel’s, their fingers tangled comfortably, and she felt the grip tighten as they drove by the shop. The lights were still on but Rachel couldn’t see anyone inside; her eyes stayed trained on the building, head turning to keep watching – as though Finn would come racing out after them at any second.

If he knew she was back in town she had no doubt that he would do something like that.

As the car swerved she realized she’d been caught staring… and Quinn was turning around.

“Quinn?”

In the dim glow of the streetlights Rachel saw Quinn’s jaw tighten briefly and then she smiled tightly, like it physically hurt her to try. “Do you want to see him?”

After the painful confession earlier the last thing on Rachel’s mind was Finn Hudson. Beyond that she knew that look on Quinn’s face - not jealousy but a cool indifference that Rachel recognized to be as fake as Judy’s smile earlier. She hadn’t seen that expression in a long time and it hurt to see it flare up again. “I don’t – It’s probably Burt, and that might be awkward. It’ll be awkward anyway; maybe we should just head back? I won’t deny that I’m curious, but tomorrow… “ God the funeral was in the morning; she didn’t need Finn making a mess before that, or at all.

She would probably always remember the last time she saw him in high school as really being the last time she saw him or felt anything for him. Singing ‘Bright Lights’ to her in the auditorium, so hopeful that she’d stay or come back. She’d been swept up in her love for him and it wasn’t until a couple of years later, after their final break-up, that she’d felt offended at the implication that the ‘bright lights’ might not receive her. Actually, once she was separated from him for a few months she started to think back on their little love affair and had been appalled at more than one thing that had gone on. She’d been so caught up in the romance and drama of dating Finn. Their back and forth relationship, to her, had been just like Ross and Rachel from Friends - fitting since she was named after Rachel Green. It had taken her a solid year to realize, much to her horror, how much she’d changed while attached to Finn’s side. 

She was worried seeing him again would bring up more bad memories than good, and more worried what their reunion would do to Quinn. Rachel was concerned that, given their current situation, it would be the final straw. She was desperate to keep Quinn feeling in control, because Rachel didn’t know what she was going to do when she finally broke down. It was looming over them, and as much as she wanted it for Quinn so she could heal, she wasn’t sure what it would look like. Would Quinn get angry and put a hole in the wall? Would she shut down completely and lock herself in a bathroom for hours? 

She just didn’t know.

Quinn wasn’t a crier; she buried things. Rachel had seen it over and over. At least she never cried in public, only every now and then would a tear escape - but it was rare. She liked to think that Quinn didn’t have much to cry over anymore, that she was happier now than she’d ever been, but she wished that those barriers would come down when they needed to - so she could get past them and be there for Quinn. Just once she’d like to be the hero. She wanted to be Quinn’s hero just like Quinn was hers.

Finn Hudson was not going to help her in that endeavor.

Not that she could imagine, anyway.

As they pulled a stop outside the shop Rachel wasn’t sure what to do. Quinn had turned the car off and continued to stare out the windshield. She hadn’t let go of her hand, but Rachel felt like they were miles apart as she studied Quinn’s profile. 

“Quinn?” she said softly, feeling out what she could say to make this better.

“Rachel, you don’t want to look back on this and regret not going in there. I know you, and you will be unhappy that you didn’t. You need to, even if it’s only for the sake of closure. When you talk about Finn I can hear the frustration in your voice. I think you should do this.” Quinn sighed and gestured at the shop. “So let’s go.”

“You don’t want to, and I don’t want to upset you,” Rachel all but whispered. Her stomach twisted at the sad smile that crept across Quinn’s face. “It’s not a big deal, we can just go.”

“Rachel Berry, I’m not going to let you bow out of something that you want, for me. I’m not going to be that person. You want to do this - it’s all over your face - and I refuse to be the reason you don’t. Yeah, it sucks because he’s probably going to say something stupid, but I’ll get over it.”

Rachel closed her eyes tightly and bounced her head off the headrest. She hated this, and hated it more because Quinn was right. She did want to see Finn; she wanted to talk to him and show him how happy she was, how successful, and she wanted him to know that she’d done it without him. 

Closure.

“I love you so much,” she said, opening her eyes to stare directly at Quinn. “Especially for this. I’ll be fast, okay? I’m not exactly thrilled with him either, but I do need to do this... and I appreciate that you are being accepting of that.”

“If I haven’t made it clear yet, Rach, there’s not a whole hell of a lot that I wouldn’t do for you.”

Nodding, Rachel squeezed the fingers in her hand and sighed shakily when Quinn lifted their hands and kissed her knuckles softly, then let go.

“Let’s go see how Captain Amazing is doing,” Rachel said boldly. 

She grabbed Quinn’s hand again as soon as they exited the car and held it firmly, needing the solid contact. Quinn stayed a step behind, letting her lead the charge and Rachel wasn’t sure if she should be grateful for that or not. Straightening up and pulling back her shoulders she took a couple of deep breaths and pushed open the door to the auto shop.

It was brightly lit inside, and reeked of oil and car. Exactly the same as it had been when she’d spent time there with Finn, all those years ago, handing him various tools and trying to pay attention to whatever he was saying about the vehicle as he worked. She’d never really understood much about cars, or the tools used to work on them. She still panicked when lights came on in her dashboard and had never changed a tire in her life, but Finn had seemed at home in his coveralls, smeared with grease.

In the corner sat a small iHome, blasting out old rock hits and a smile snuck across her face at how predictable it was. Finn and his classic rock addiction. 

She heard him before she saw him and knew that it wasn’t Burt just from his voice. 

They stepped around the back of an old Taurus and sure enough, bent over the engine block was Finn Hudson.

“You put your left foot out keep it all in place... Work your way right into my case.” Finn stood up, completely lost in singing into his fake microphone, eyes closed. “First you try to bed me you make...” He faltered as he opened his eyes and saw Rachel and Quinn staring at him. Quinn’s eyebrow arched towards her hairline and Rachel tried to cover her grin with her fingers. “Rachel?”

“Hello, Finn.” Rachel said politely and squeezed Quinn’s fingers.

“I always knew you’d come back,” Finn said with that same dopey grin. “You look great.”

“You’re working a little late, aren’t you?” Rachel gestured around the empty garage and smiled.

“Oh, nah, I’m usually here after hours. It’s nice, just me and the cars. I lost track of time I guess.” He started to reach for her, like he was going to touch her hair, but pulled back when he saw her hand linked with Quinn’s. His forehead furrowed for a moment and Rachel felt Quinn tense. “Hey, Quinn, it’s nice to see you too. Well not because of the circumstances… I’m sorry about your Dad.”

Quinn stared at him, somewhat incredulously Rachel thought, and then nodded slowly. “Thank you. I’m going to go wait in the car, okay? You guys have catching up to do.”

“Quinn?” Rachel didn’t like this idea, and she definitely didn’t like the cold feeling that crept up her arm when Quinn let go of her hand.

“It’s fine, Rachel.”

Finn didn’t even watch Quinn leave, he just leaned against the Taurus and smirked. “So what brings you back to Lima? I mean, I know why Quinn’s back.”

Rachel resisted the urge to rub at her forehead and clasped her hands together on her stomach instead. “I actually came with her.”

“Oh,” he wiped at his chin, smudging some grease over his boyish features. “That’s nice of you. I didn’t know you two kept in contact.”

“We didn’t exactly. She moved to New York and we ran into each other.”

“Cool, I guess. So you’re in town for awhile?”

“Over the weekend - we’re flying out Monday morning.” Her fingers started to fiddle with each other and suddenly found her shoes extremely interesting.

“Maybe tomorrow we could get some dinner or something? Really catch up?”

“That’s - that’s not a good idea, Finn, I’m sorry. I need to be here for Quinn.” Rachel said, forcing herself to look him in the eye when she said it. The disappointment on his face didn’t last long; it was swiftly replaced with something that looked sadly like hope. 

“Not even just for dinner? I’d bring you right back. Feels kind of wrong to meet up again and not spend some more time together.” He squinted at her, and then leaned back. “You’re seeing someone.”

She nodded and took another deep, calming breath. “Yes, I am. I’m with Quinn.”

“What does that have to do...” he jumped away from the car in shock. “You’re with Quinn? With with Quinn?”

Nodding again she smiled and stilled her hands, remembering running into Quinn at Starbucks. Going to her office the first time, the bar, their first kiss. “Yes.”

“For how long?” Finn asked, the shocked expression on his face ruining her trip down memory lane.

“Nearly a year.”

“Are you pulling my leg or something? I mean, I expected you to move on, I did, but with Quinn?”

She didn’t like the way he said Quinn’s name, and she bristled at the tone. “No. No, Finn, I am not ‘pulling your leg’. Quinn and I are together; she’s my girlfriend. A wonderful girlfriend, and I came back to Lima with her because her father died and I would never leave her to come back to that alone.” She gave him a pointed glare. “She brought me to see you because she thought I might want to say hello.”

Finn swayed in place and wiped at his face again, further spreading greasy gunk over his bristly jaw. “I think I need to sit down.” He fumbled behind himself and wheeled forward a stool. “You’ve changed.”

“Were you honestly expecting me not to?”

“No,” he shook his head as he dropped down onto the stool. “I knew you would. Just, not like this. I’m not judging, I swear. I’ve always, always, remembered you as my Rachel, ya know? This is way different.” He waved his hand in the air. “We were... so perfect together, and Quinn was - well she was Quinn. It’s hard to imagine you together. I mean, what do you see in her? Not to be mean, or anything, I really want to know.”

“We were perfect together?” Rachel started to laugh and stopped herself awkwardly. “That’s your response?” She closed her eyes and sighed hard through her nose. Composure, keep your composure. “Finn, you never respected me. I’ve had years to think over this - think over us. I wonder sometimes if you ever really liked me at all, of if you’d just come to the conclusion that I was the only person for you to date in McKinley. That one seems most accurate, considering you left me behind when you got to college and there were more options. You thought I was the only way out of McKinley, Finn. As for what I see in Quinn? I don’t much feel like explaining that to you. I don’t have to do that, and I’m not going to.”

She was fully prepared to whirl around and execute her now infamous diva storm-out when Finn leapt up from his stool, toppling it in the process, and gently gripped her biceps.

“Shit, Rachel, wait. I didn’t mean to piss you off, I promise. I’m a simple guy, you know, not stupid or anything, but simple and I was curious - that’s all. I’m happy that you’re happy. Really. Maybe High School Finn would’ve been jealous, or whatever, kicked over a chair.”

Rachel snorted and pointed at the sad stool sitting on the floor with a wheel still rolling lazily. 

He grinned and shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’m not that guy anymore, any more than you’re that girl. I’m glad that you found someone who’s good to you. Hopefully better than I was.”

All of her energy left her with his words, and her shoulders sagged as she put her head into her hands. “No, I’m sorry. I’m on edge; being back hasn’t been a dream. It was nice to see you, Finn, and maybe we could email each other when I’m home? I should get back to Quinn.”

“Yeah, of course.” He patted at the pockets of his coveralls. “It was nice to see you too, and Quinn for the few seconds she was in here. I, uh, didn’t mean to upset her. I’d love to keep contact. Let me get my card. You may want to write the email though, I may not be that guy anymore, but I do still write like a sixteen year old boy.”

“Okay.” Rachel smiled and waited while he darted to the nearest counter. “Thanks, Finn.”

“Sure!” 

When Rachel got back to the car her smile faltered along with her steady stride. Quinn was staring out the driver’s side window, her face a stoic mask. She opened the door only to be met with silence. No radio, nothing. Just silence.

“Quinn?”

“Yes?”

Verbal response, that was good. Buckling her seat belt Rachel decided to avoid the topic of Finn, for now. “I think, maybe... we could stay with my Dad’s tonight.”

A muscle twitched in Quinn’s jaw, but she nodded shortly. 

Relief flooded Rachel as she dragged her purse up from the floor and pulled free her cell phone. The last thing she wanted for either of them was a night in the Fabray house. “Let me call my Dad and let him know.”

“Rachel?”

“Hm?”

“The suit case is still at my Mom’s.”

Rachel almost dropped the phone.


	5. Chapter 5

If it had been any other moment, any other place, Quinn probably would have laughed.

They were sitting outside her mother’s house, again, neither of them making a move to get out or even suggest moving from the safety of the car.

“Déjà vu,” she muttered and shook her head with a wry smile. Rachel shot her a glance and Quinn shrugged. Part of her wanted to march into that house with her head held high and prove to her Uncle that his words and opinions wouldn’t make her run. She was sure she was strong enough for that. But Rachel was her priority and Rachel didn’t want to go back. Plus, she was fairly certain she’d do something stupid if Phillip decided to direct his nastiness at Rachel anymore than he already had. Rachel was off limits. Not because she couldn’t handle the name calling, but because Quinn wouldn’t allow them to treat her like that. Like she had when they were younger.

Quinn closed her eyes and tried to push down the rising self-loathing. She hated those memories, more than any other. Rachel might have forgiven her for it, but Quinn would probably never be able to do that for herself.

“I’m going in,” Rachel suddenly announced, jarring Quinn from her thoughts.

“You – what?”

“Sorry, that sounded like a really cliché television or movie line, didn’t it? I meant, I’m going to go in and get the suitcase. We can walk to my house from here so we can leave your Mom’s car for them.”

Rachel had her determined face on, and Quinn couldn’t have kept the smile off her face if she’d tried. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea, Superstar.”

“The walking part or me retrieving our stuff?”

Quinn sighed and tightened her grip on the steering wheel until her knuckles blanched. “Have you looked outside? It’s kind of cold. Also I’m not sure sending you in to face the hyenas is wise.”

“We have coats, Quinn, and you know it’s not that far of a walk. Daddy can put the kettle on if we’re absolutely frozen. Maybe some chamomile tea is exactly what we need. As for issue number two,” Rachel straightened in her seat and set her jaw. “I can take care of myself. I’m not afraid of their petty words, nor am I incapable of retaliating should the need arise. I plan on walking right in, grabbing the suitcase, and marching back out without a single word. They won’t even have time to say anything.”

“Hurricane Berry is somewhat frightening,” Quinn said and reluctantly slipped her hands away from the steering wheel. She pulled the keys free and handed them over to Rachel. “I’m not going to argue with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Quinn leaned back in her seat and inclined her head towards the front door.

Rachel was slightly flabbergasted at how easy that had turned out. She’d expected more of a fight. “I’ll be fast.”

“I’ll be here.”

Watching her go almost physically pained Quinn, but she wanted Rachel to have this moment. It was important to her, she could see it in her eyes. Once Rachel got into one of those moods it was nearly impossible to get her out of it, or to talk her out of it. Quinn didn’t want to restrain her – she just hoped a little luck could find them and Rachel’s defender cape would be unnecessary.

Tipping her head back against the seat with a snort, Quinn closed her eyes and let the silence of the car envelop her.

Rachel’s purposeful stride faltered as she neared the front door, she slowed until she was almost stalking up the steps like a thief. Which is exactly what she felt like – minus the all black outfit and ski mask. She looked left and right and then rolled her eyes at herself. “For the love of Elphaba, what is wrong with me?” And now she was talking to herself… great.

Unwilling to stand out in the cold any longer, despite her growing trepidation, Rachel opened the door without even her usual deep, calming, breath. She didn’t knock, or ring the ridiculous bell, just opened the door with Judy’s keys. She felt a rush of giddiness at her bravado and all but swaggered into the house like she owned it.

Only to nearly fall over in fright when a bang sounded in the kitchen. The suitcase was still sitting in the entry way, so close to grasping range it was almost taunting her – if she moved for it she would be within view of both the living room and whoever was in the kitchen. She was contemplating her next move when Judy stumbled out and stopped right in front of her.

Well, this is awkward.

“Mrs. Fabray,” Rachel said stiffly, but politely.

Judy just stared at her, eyes rimmed vibrant red and glazed, a glass of something that smelled strongly of liquor clutched in her hand.

Swallowing a scoff, Rachel crossed her arms and jerked her chin at the glass. “Dare I ask how many of those you’ve had?” After the conversation with Quinn, Rachel wasn’t exactly feeling charitable towards Judy and while she knew she probably shouldn’t be picking a fight she couldn’t help herself. As far as Rachel was concerned Judy was just as responsible for abusing Quinn as Russell had been. Maybe in her mind she’d thought she’d been trying her best to help, but the way Rachel saw it all she’d done was try and hide the evidence afterwards.

“I fail to see how that’s any of your business,” Judy snapped, then blinked slowly a couple of times.

Rachel let out a completely un-lady like snort and resisted the urge to throttle Judy in her own home. “Is it really going to help anything?”

“What would you know about it?” Judy shot back and took a greedy gulp of whatever mixed drink she’d fixed.

“I know all of it,” Rachel snarled and stared hard at Judy. Drunk though she obviously was, Judy paled at the implication and her perfect posture vanished as she caved inwards on herself. “You’re a coward, and the worst kind I could imagine. Hiding behind your alcohol, simpering, watching while your husband…” She paused for a shuddery inhale and shook her head. “She is your daughter. She deserves more than you and I think you know that. You must know that the alcohol only offers fleeting relief – it’s not going to make it go away or magically better. You need to grow up and face reality. Quinn, for some unfathomable reason, still wants you in her life. I’d take that as a gift, if I were you, and I certainly wouldn’t waste the opportunity to have such a wonderful person in my life by continuing to ignore what happened by drowning the memories with cocktails. It’s not healthy, and it’s not right that you skirt the issues while she deals with them.”

Rachel took two steps forward grabbed the handle of the suitcase, handed a stunned Judy the keys to the car, and without another word or glance back whirled around and marched right out the door.

As soon as it closed behind her she fell back against the sturdy wood and took several ragged breaths. Quinn was out of the car in seconds and storming up towards Rachel.

“Are you okay?” she asked, hazel eyes gleaming almost gold in the porch light.

“Let’s go. Can we go?” Rachel held on to the suitcase handle for dear life and tried not to run down the steps.

Quinn followed her at a slightly more sedate pace, eyebrows drawn together and mouth fixed in a worried pout. She glanced back at the front of her old home and saw her mother staring after them through the bay window. Her shiver had nothing to do with the cold and she hurried that much more to catch up to Rachel.

They walked down the street without a word between them and Quinn fell back into dark thoughts the further they went. She didn’t know what had happened in the house, obviously, but something had happened and Rachel was completely withdrawn, head bowed and eyes distant. Quinn felt the stirrings of anger in her stomach as Rachel chewed on her bottom lip and refused to look at her or reach for her. Normally when she was upset, no matter over what, Rachel sought contact – a hug, a hand to hold, or sometimes even just the touch of her fingers to the small of Quinn’s back. What had Judy said? Had her mother hurt Rachel in some way? The thought pissed her off beyond reason.

She completely stopped when another idea hit her with enough force to steal the air from her lungs.

Was Rachel having second thoughts about their relationship now that she knew the truth about Quinn’s family?

Rachel stopped a few steps ahead of her and twisted to look back at her. Quinn could only stare, unable to say anything with her throat so constricted, she felt like she was going to suffocate.

“Quinn, it’s cold. Come on.”

Forcing herself back into motion, Quinn followed Rachel’s lead and didn’t attempt to completely close the distance between them. Her feet felt heavy, but she moved them slowly forward, one in front of the other and fought hard not to cry. If she started now she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to stop and it really was freezing.

When they finally reached Rachel’s childhood home, Quinn kept her distance, merely observing.

Not oblivious to the mood that had fallen over Quinn, Rachel set her jaw to combat the burn in her eyes and retrieved the hidey-key from under the potted plant. She had to smirk at the fact that her father’s still hid the key there, despite her protests that it was far too obvious a hiding place. She unlocked the door and eased it open, gesturing for Quinn to go in first while she put the key back. She’d been expecting her father’s to be up and waiting for them, but the house was completely quiet and there were no lights on. “They must’ve gone back to bed,” she commented lightly.

Quinn nodded and Rachel sighed as she moved up the staircase.

“Go on in, I’m just going to go tell them we’re here,” Rachel said and pointed at her bedroom door. Again, Quinn nodded and slipped into the bedroom while Rachel tiptoed down the hall to her father’s room. She knocked twice and slowly peeked the door open. “Dad? Daddy?”

There was a muffled groan and the rustle of sheets and then Hiram appeared in the doorway, he yawned and waved. “Hey sweetheart.”

Rachel lost it, she pushed through the barely open door right into Hiram’s arms and started crying.

Hiram looked over his shoulder at Leroy, who had turned on the bedside lamp and was blinking owlishly in the sudden illumination. Without even a second thought he cradled Rachel more firmly against his torso and waddled them over to the bed, setting her down between him and Leroy so they both could hold her. They’d known when they got her phone call that their welcome at the Fabray’s had not gone well – not that they were really surprised, but it still was awful to see her going through the same thing they’d been battling for years.

“They’re supposed to be a family,” Rachel whimpered. “Daddy, it was awful.”

“It’s okay,” Leroy said, though his face clearly indicated how not okay it actually was. “How’s Quinn?”

“Quinn is – she walls it all up. I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you need a glass of water?” Hiram asked. It was breaking his heart to hear her quivering gasps for air and feel her tears dampening her shirt.

“No. I want – I want Quinn. But she, I don’t know how to make it better. How do I make it better?” Rachel pulled away and stared directly up at Leroy.

“You can’t fix it for her, baby. All you can do is be here with her, and you figure it out together.”

She wiped at her eyes and re-steeled herself. “I wish I could take her away from all of this.”

“You can’t run away from stuff like this, Rachel, and you know that too.” Hiram said, rubbing her back soothingly. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. Why don’t you go clean up in our bathroom and go to bed, okay? We can talk more in the morning.”

Rachel ducked her head and Leroy and Hiram both swooped in to kiss her. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Nope, that’s what Dad’s are for,” Leroy said and nudged her lightly with his shoulder.

“I love you,” Rachel said and returned the affection with a kiss to both their cheeks. “Still the best Dad’s ever.”

“We know.” Hiram winked and stood up with an exaggerated groan. “Come on,” he held out his hand and helped her to her feet and watched her shuffle off to the bathroom. As soon as she was occupied with washing her face, and the running water was loud enough to cover him, he looked back at Leroy and raised an eyebrow.

“I know,” Leroy sighed and slouched back against his pillow. “But they’ve got to work through this on their own. We can’t go all white knight and burn the Fabray house down… or whatever crazy idea you’re brewing.”

“Ugh, mind reader,” Hiram joked and flopped back on the bed. “Do we try and talk to Quinn tomorrow?”

“I think we wait and let Rachel do her thing – if Quinn wants to talk to us she’ll seek us out. Not a bad idea to offer though, but to Rachel.”

“Right.”

“Are you going to sleep on the end of the bed like the dog you won’t allow me to have?”

“Leroy, if we get a dog I will be the one taking care of it.”

“But I miss having a little bumbly, bouncy, nut to chase around and put adorable outfits on and fight to get into the bathtub.” Leroy pouted and poked at Hiram with his foot.

“We’ll see.”

Rachel reappeared, face wiped clean and tinged pink from the scrubbing. “Goodnight, and thank you,” she said quietly and inched her way out of their room. She padded down the hall to her room and wasn’t surprised to see Quinn already in a nest of blankets, curled up on her side. Throwing open the suitcase she pried free Quinn’s Batman boxers and her Harry Potter shirt and put all of her flagging energy into changing. Quinn didn’t move when Rachel lifted the blankets and crawled in to the bed. In fact Rachel wasn’t sure Quinn was still breathing she was so still. 

They laid there, both feeling the weight of the things they weren’t saying and neither could find the right words. Quinn wanted to close her eyes and sleep, she was so weary, but her mind was too busy and she felt so empty, lost in the quiet that was somehow louder than anything. She could hear Rachel shifting, her legs moving under the blankets, and felt the bed dip when she settled again. It wasn’t right, those legs were supposed to be tangled with hers, that warm little body should have been pressed along hers – and she knew sleep wouldn’t come easy without the familiar embrace.

Rachel wasn’t sure what was worse – staring at Quinn’s back or choosing to roll and face away to feel the space between them. She could see the tension in Quinn’s shoulders and knew she wasn’t sleeping. “Please,” she whispered, because she couldn’t think of anything else.

Quinn rolled over slowly, pausing on her back to gather herself before turning completely to face Rachel in the dark. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because of – because of all of this. I never wanted you to have to deal with my family like this. I guess I hoped that things would change, but they never seem to.”

It was hard for Rachel to restrain herself, everything in her was begging to reach out and touch, comfort. But even more than that, she felt that she needed to wait. “Quinn.”

“If you don’t want to be with me anymore, I understand.”

Rachel’s mouth fell open, even though she knew that Quinn probably couldn’t see it. “Quinn! Is that? Are you serious?”

“You – after you got the suitcase…” Quinn trailed off, suddenly feeling somewhat foolish and unbelievably insecure. She was thankful for the gloom, so Rachel couldn’t see the blush she felt creeping over her face, or the tears that were gathering in her eyes.

“I yelled at your Mom,” Rachel explained and wormed in closer to Quinn. This conversation she could handle, it was everything else that was terrifying. She shook her head and bit her lip as she set her forehead against Quinn’s. “Well, more like sternly spoke to her. I got so mad, I just lost control for a couple of seconds. Then when I left I realized what I’d just done. It’s a bit shocking when you verbally tear down your significant others parents. It was probably rash, considering I just met her.”

Quinn wanted to laugh, she wanted to laugh and cry actually, but she opted for neither and chose instead to wrap her arms around Rachel. “You are so amazing.”

Feeling much better now that Quinn was holding on to her, Rachel squeezed her eyes tightly shut and curled her hands together against Quinn’s chest. “Quinn, I’m not going anywhere. Ever. Unless you make me.”

“I’m sorry, again. Everything with my Mom and Phillip and Finn was just - I feel like I need a vacation.”

“Finn doesn’t mean anything,” Rachel said firmly and sighed. “None of them mean anything, Quinn, just you. I belong to you.”

Quinn shook her head and fumbled for a second to get her hand on Rachel’s cheek. “You don’t belong to anyone. You never have. You’re not property.”

“I know that, I meant in a metaphorical sense and I was trying to be romantic. I guess I should have been more clear. My heart belongs to you, it has for awhile, and you should know that and trust that more than anything.”

“My head’s all over the place today,” Quinn admitted and lightly rubbed her nose against Rachel’s. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“I agree.”

“About my head being all over the place?”

Rachel snorted and softly bumped her head against Quinn’s. “Go to sleep.”

“Oh, I see, sweet Rachel is gone and it’s back to bossing me around.”

“Quinn?”

“I’m sleeping, Rachel, because somebody told me to.” Quinn smirked, nuzzled her head deeper into her pillow and moved her thumb against Rachel’s cheek a couple of times. Just so she would know that she was listening. The second her eyes closed she almost whimpered at how fast her sleepiness crashed on her. Her head was throbbing.

“Do you think we could talk more, about everything, when we get home?”

Home. Oh god, it sounded so good. Home in her own bed, freezing her ass off in New York, getting caught in traffic, listening to Ryan rant. Quinn tried to open her eyes again, but her body refused. “We can talk tomorrow and the next day and for the rest of forever if you want to.”

Rachel smiled and uncurled one fist so she could touch her fingers to the hidden scar on Quinn’s chest. “Okay.”


	6. Chapter 6

Quinn abruptly woke from a dreamless sleep as Rachel bolted upright in the bed, breaking from the circle of her arms. She tried to blink the gunk from her eyes as she rolled on to her back. “Rachel? What’s wrong?”

“I found religion,” Rachel stated seriously.

It took Quinn all of five seconds to figure out what was going on. She smiled and pressed her mouth into her pillow to keep from laughing. “Did you?” she asked, struggling to keep a straight face. Sleep-talking Rachel was always the best way to wake up.

Rachel blinked heavily, “It’s a small Asian boy.”

Quinn snorted and giggled. Rachel swayed with a dreamy, satisfied smile, then flopped back down on the bed with a sigh and snuggled back into Quinn.

When Rachel started snoring again Quinn let herself laugh quietly, and ran her hands over Rachel’s back. “Crazy girl,” she whispered. “Every time I stumble, you’re there holding me up - even when you’re unconscious.”

Now that it was light enough and she was awake, Quinn looked around the room. It seemed to be untouched and she could see Rachel everywhere: in all of the posters, the paint scheme, the glittery stars taped to the mirror - another untouched Rachel Berry shrine. She felt a pang of jealousy at that. There was no doubt in her mind that her mother had completely stripped and changed her room. It was so much easier to deal with the past if the evidence was erased.

“Hmmm,” Rachel hummed. “Quinn?”

“Is it the Asian boy again?”

“Wha-?” Rachel nuzzled against Quinn’s warm chest and frowned. “What Asian boy?”

“Nothing,” Quinn snickered. “You awake?”

“No, I’m dreaming,” Rachel grumbled, and swatted lazily at Quinn’s hip. “What time is it?”

Quinn shrugged, “Early?”

“What time is the funeral?”

Just like that Quinn’s sense of peace shattered. “I sent a text to Cam last night asking that, but I don’t know if she responded yet.”

“Where’s your phone?” Rachel asked and gripped a handful of blanket against Quinn’s hipbone. She didn’t really want to get up, or ruin the familiar moment she was so enjoying, but she knew it would be easy to get lost in it and they couldn’t avoid reality for long.

“Bedside table,” Quinn said and unhappily pulled away from Rachel to reach for the device. “Where it always is.”

“Does that mean your gun is next to it, also where it always is?”

“You know me so well.”

Rachel smiled, “I’d suggest you not carry it when we meet back up with your family, but I know you will anyway. Though I’m curious where you’re going to hide it with that dress you brought.”

“Well I need it, in case Finn tries to abduct you.”

“Finn is not going to try and abduct me, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“There goes that fantasy,” Quinn quipped as she checked her text messages. Most of them were from Ryan, but she finally saw the one from her sister and sighed. “Funeral is at ten.”

“How about I go downstairs and start some jet-fuel coffee for you so you can take a shower?”

“You’ll make me coffee?”

Nodding, Rachel tapped her fingers softly against Quinn’s lips. “I think I’ve watched you do it enough times to get the grounds to water ratio correct.”

“It’s a science,” Quinn said against the fingertips mapping her mouth. She smiled crookedly and grasped Rachel’s hand. “Thank you.”

“For the coffee?”

“For being you.”

“Odd, but sweet. You’re welcome,” Rachel yawned and stretched, arching her back and pushing her arms up towards the ceiling. “Alright, coffee for me, shower for you.”

Quinn sat up with a groan and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “See you in a few.”

“Not if I see you first,” Rachel said quietly, worriedly watching Quinn walk towards the en-suite bathroom. Quinn may b good at hiding things but Rachel’s become an expert in seeing through her defenses. 

She took her time getting up, waiting to hear the water turn on before she felt confident enough to leave the bed.

It was weird to be back in her home, to see all of her things untouched in her old room as if she’d never left. In the kitchen she noticed that her fathers hadn’t even re-painted; everything was exactly as she’d left it all those years ago.

“Nice boxers.”

Rachel yelped and almost dropped the coffee measuring spoon. “Daddy! It’s not nice to sneak up on people!”

Leroy shrugged, cocking his head when he noticed the spoon in her hand. “Since when do you drink coffee?”

“I don’t,” she said simply and narrowed her eyes. “Damn it, I forgot how many scoops I put in.”

“Scoops?” Hiram asked through a yawn as he stumbled into the kitchen behind Leroy.

“Rachel’s making coffee for Quinn,” Leroy grinned. “She’s been domesticated.”

“Excuse me,” Rachel huffed indignantly, whirling around to level a fearsome glare at her fathers. “I am not a house cat.”

“More like a house wife,” Hiram said as he smoothly removed the scoop from Rachel’s hand. “Though you’re doing this wrong, so not a very good house wife... yet.”

Rachel was still gaping at him after he dropped the big ‘w’ word. “I’m - that - you!”

“Ah, speechlessness. It never gets old,” Leroy reminisced.

“Rachel! How much coffee were you planning on making? God, there are enough grounds in here for two pots, and I’m pretty sure the first one would kill us.”

“Quinn likes her coffee strong,” Rachel defended. “That’s exactly how full she fills our coffee, uh, pot? Filter area?”

“Our,” Hiram said and casually leaned back against the counter. “Perhaps now would be a good time to have that family discussion?”

“Are you two living together?” Leroy asked, digging through the fridge.

“I -” Rachel sighed and tried to focus on filling the water reservoir. “Not officially. I still have my apartment but I stay at hers most of the time.”

“Is hers nicer?” Hiram winked over at Leroy and crossed his arms over his chest.

“No, I mean, it’s nice - it’s smaller.”

“So why doesn’t she stay with you?” Leroy set eggs, a cantaloupe, and kosher turkey bacon on the counter next to the stove.

“I like staying with her. It’s um, I feel safe.”

“And you don’t feel safe at your own apartment?” Hiram and Leroy exchanged a look over their daughter’s head. They already knew that Quinn had laid her life on the line for Rachel before, and knew that her job was dangerous. What they didn’t know was how it was affecting their little girl. Or much about Quinn other than what they’d been told and seen with their own eyes.

“Well, I do, but… I don’t know - is there a point to this questioning?” Rachel moved to start on the cantaloupe but had her hand lightly slapped away.

“My kitchen, I cook,” Hiram said. “And you’re right, perhaps we could start at how you met back up with Quinn.”

Rachel sighed and hoisted herself up to perch on the counter. “I was at Barnes and Noble, stopped for tea in the Starbucks and ran into her. We met up for drinks and I suppose it took off from there. I - I fell for her and I was surprised when I realized what had happened. Not because she’s a woman, but because I hadn’t expected it. Quinn is amazing and she - I didn’t even want to fight it.”

“And then the whirlwind romance,” Leroy hummed. “Her job must take her away a lot.”

“It works out alright, I’m gone a lot too. Lots of late nights.”

“I would imagine you spend a lot of time dodging paparazzi. We’ve seen some candids of you two, but they describe you as friends and Quinn as a ‘mystery woman’.” Hiram said, cracking eggs into the skillet. 

“She’s very careful to keep her anonymity, for her job... and for me. She worries about me, so she keeps a low profile to protect me.”

“How about you tell us what happened last night?” Leroy suggested, before Hiram could launch into protector mode and rile Rachel up again.

“There’s a lot, so much for me to tell you… but not a lot that I can,” Rachel said softly.

“Give us the cliff notes.”

Torn between her need to tell her father’s the whole story and trying to protect Quinn from having her secrets spilled, Rachel toyed with the ends of her hair and tried to find a balance between the two.

“Suffice it to say that I’ve learned quite a bit about Quinn’s family. Things that greatly upset Quinn – that brought up very bad memories - and are not my place to talk to you about. I will say that I’m grateful her father is dead because I might have killed him myself after learning about what went on under his roof.” Rachel paused, trying desperately to collect her thoughts and rein in her temper. She chewed on her lip and rubbed at her forehead, wishing the building headache away. “Her uncle is an equally loathsome human being – I don’t think I’ve ever heard more vile things come out of someone’s mouth. It must run in the family. Judy is a complete coward who can’t say a word in Quinn’s defense, and when we went back to retrieve our luggage she was already drinking away her sorrows.” Rachel snorted and shook her head sadly. “It’s not fair. And he had the nerve to expect her to say a few words – after the things he did…” Her hands started to shake, so she quickly tucked them under her armpits. “I can’t go back and keep it from happening – and now I can’t keep her from remembering it. I’d do anything if I could make this alright.”

She couldn’t help but think of the things that Quinn had told her as her imagination conjured the image of a sobbing little girl with giant hazel eyes, curled in a ball on top of a pile of shoes in a dark closet, pleading for her Mommy to let her out. Telling her Daddy she was sorry. Rachel raised her head and looked at her fathers through blurry eyes. “How could a father…” she choked and hastily wiped at the falling tears. A shudder worked its way through her, from her shoulders down; it was all too much. The belt, the closet, and the burn – turning into scars and claustrophobia, and always reading in school where she couldn’t be caught. Reaching up she clasped a hand around the beautiful Star of David pendant sitting warmly against her sternum and closed her eyes, recalling Quinn’s dopey, lovesick smile when she’d presented the necklace on their six-month anniversary. The memory soothed her; it always did.

“Honey, are you trying to indirectly tell us that Quinn was – “ Hiram’s question was cut off by the arrival of the woman in question. Quinn faltered as she padded into the kitchen, freezing completely as both men left their cooking to embrace her. “Quinn! Good morning! Did you sleep well? You doing okay?” They babbled together as they crushed her between them, as if in one hug they could erase the hurts of the past. It worked with Rachel, after all.

Rachel watched, kicking herself for having missed the signs for so long. She saw them now, in the way Quinn reacted to her fathers. The quick flash of surprise in her eyes when they hugged her and spoke to her like she mattered broke her heart all over again. She was proud of her Dads though, as obvious as they might be, and she smiled as they showered Quinn with attention.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you, and I slept very well,” Quinn tried to discreetly remove herself from between Hiram and Leroy but only succeeded in making it worse. They hugged her again, enthusiastically inquiring after her favorite breakfast foods, and was she hungry?

“Guys, you’re smothering her. My god, let her breathe,” Rachel teased, hopping off the counter to rescue her flabbergasted girlfriend. She steered Quinn into the dining room and gallantly pulled a chair out for her. “Bacon, eggs, and coffee?”

Quinn nodded, “I can help though.”

“Are you kidding? They love doting on company.”

“So it’s inherited then,” Quinn mused, grinning crookedly up at Rachel, and gently tugged at the hand resting next to hers.

More than happy to comply with the silent request, Rachel looped her arms around Quinn’s neck and leaned down. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Not at all, I think it’s adorable when you get into hostess mode. All you need is an apron.”

Rachel was trying to come up with a suitable come back when her fathers suddenly - and loudly - burst into song in the kitchen, sufficiently distracting her until she felt Quinn begin playing with her fingers.

“What are they singing? It sounds familiar.”

“Pretty Women, from Sweeney Todd,” Rachel giggled and turned to nuzzle against Quinn’s hair. “Your hair’s still wet.”

“I didn’t want to stay in your room by myself,” Quinn admitted, starting to fiddle with Rachel’s fingers again.

“Say what you’re thinking,” Rachel said, weaving her fingers with Quinn’s. 

“It must be nice, having parents who care.” She said it flippantly, but when Rachel pulled away to look at her, her eyes were as watery as her smile.


	7. Chapter 7

Rachel felt like she’d just managed to fall asleep when she startled awake, eyes snapping open to peer confusedly into an unfamiliar room. It took her a second to put together the pieces of her sleep addled memory. As clarity slowly returned she remembered that she was in Quinn’s childhood bedroom, something which explained the lightness of her slumber but not what had pried her so easily from its feeble embrace. She sighed in mild annoyance with herself; generally a heavy sleeper, her jumpiness throughout the day had clearly followed her into the night. No matter how many times she’d silently berated herself her nervousness continued, amplified whenever she found herself in the company of Quinn’s relatives on her own. Her growing guilt over never having known about Quinn’s home life had made everything worse. She felt protective and borderline homicidal around the various Fabrays. Their fake veneer of perfection set her teeth on edge. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand how they could even look Quinn in the eye.

To say that it had been a 'long' day would be a gross understatement. By the time the funeral ended and Judy had talked Quinn into coming back to stay with her family it was already noon. Even though Quinn had agreed to her mother's request they still didn't go back with the rest of the Fabrays, instead heading into town for lunch with the Berry men and, oddly enough, Finn Hudson. 

Stalling wouldn't really be the right word for the way they dawdled in town - it was more like avoiding the inevitable. They’d stretched their time as far as they could, but ended up back in the Fabray driveway long after dinner.

Fortunately the house had been still, save for Quinn's triplet cousins who had graciously allowed them in and had even more graciously not said a word past 'good-night'. The house felt twice as creepy in the dark. Rachel had half expected a serial killer or vampire (possibly a blood crazed Phillip) to jump out and slaughter them in the hallway as they crept towards Quinn’s bedroom.

Needless to say, sleep took it’s sweet time finding them. However much she’d gotten hadn’t been enough, and it certainly wasn’t stopping her mind from churning.

Thinking about it, she wasn’t sure what she had expected, in movies and television it was almost always raining or snowing. Standing in bright sunshine while a coffin was lowered into the ground seemed so strange. Of course, everything about the funeral seemed strange to her. She wasn’t Catholic, and Quinn wasn’t exactly devout, so she was a little confused about the proceedings. 

Their morning had been pleasant enough. Leroy and Hiram had been a good distraction for Quinn, but as Rachel had predicted they couldn’t hide from the day forever.

As soon as they reached the cemetery Quinn had shrunk further inside her shell, seemingly turning into one of those old Greek marble statues. As pale as the snow and hard as the sharp breeze that had slapped against them all day, the only glimmer of emotion she been able to see in Quinn all day had been a brief flash of something in her unfathomable hazel green eyes as they lowered the casket into the frozen ground. She hadn’t even cried, just standing there - the Venus de Milo in the flesh - her hand holding tightly to Rachel’s.

Rachel had been a little surprised at the turn out for the funeral. Finn had been there, and surprisingly enough Will Schuester.

She could have done without that conversation.

“It was really nice of you to come back with Quinn.”

Completely distracted with watching Quinn talk with Judy, Rachel barely heard her former teacher. Tilting her head in acknowledgement, her eyes still firmly on Quinn, she murmured a reply more to herself than Will. “Hm? Yes, well, I certainly wasn’t going to let her come back here alone.”

“What about your show?”

That, however, got her attention and she felt herself bristle in irritation. “Excuse me?”

“It’s great that you're here for her, Rachel, but aren’t you missing out on some performances? She’s got her family here, and I’d hate for you to miss your time on stage out of concern for an old friend.” The disapproving tone in his voice was familiar and severely unwelcome. Rachel turned, putting her full attention back on her old teacher and not bothering to try and hide her glare.

“You know what? No. You might have missed your chance on stage, Mr. Schuester, but this is my life and I know what I'm sacrificing by being at Quinn’s side when she needs me. For your information, her family isn’t exactly what I would call supportive.” She paused for a second, needing just a moment to gather herself before she physically attacked him. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried in vain not to think of a younger Quinn locked in the closet. “And you should have known that years ago if you gave a damn about her.” She tried to keep her voice level, not wanting to make a scene, but her frustration with him was making it difficult. This man, a man who was supposed to be a mentor - their teacher and leader - had done nothing for Quinn. In fact she could remember several times where he’d blatantly ignored the goings on within the Glee Club. Perhaps he thought he shouldn’t involve himself in the lives of his students, but all Rachel could think of was Quinn, homeless and pregnant, and where had Will been then? Where had any of them been? Her guilt smacked into her and all but stole her breath. She’d been there too, seeing the signs in Quinn and while she had, on occasion, reached out to her... it just wasn’t enough. Maybe then she couldn’t have done anything more than she had, but he had no excuse; he could have stepped in. He should have stepped in.

“Rachel, I – “

“What is it with you? Do you just walk around with blinders on all the time? Anything that doesn’t fit into your pretty picture gets blocked out?” Rachel hissed, jerking her arm away from his hesitant touch. “You were the father she desperately wanted - the one she needed - and you couldn't be bothered to know anything about her except what was important to or directly involved you. You let her down, ignoring everything when she needed you to see that it wasn't all okay.”

He looked completely dumbfounded, his eyes wide as he looked around, as if searching for an exit he just couldn’t find. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say.”

“Really?” Rachel sneered. “I thought I was pretty clear. I see the things that you never bothered to pay attention to and I can’t believe that you’re really that selfish. Her family is not here for her and you’d know that if you took the time to remove your head from your ass. I’m sorry, Mr. Schue, but my girlfriend is more important to me than a couple of shows.”

“Your girlfriend?” Will echoed, his mouth falling open.

“Yes, girlfriend. Perhaps you’d like to serenade us with some Sapphic themed monstrosity? ‘I Kissed a Girl’, perhaps? No?” There were too many memories, too much information in one weekend, and Rachel’s fists shook with anger and some emotion she couldn’t name.

“I didn’t know,” he stammered.

None of them had known.

“That’s my point exactly.” Exhausted, defeated, and in no mood to try and make Will Schuester feel any better about himself, she shook her head, flashed him one last hard look, and went to find Quinn.

All her thoughts made Rachel turn, suddenly surprised to realize that the usual heat of Quinn sleeping practically on top of her was absent. She discovered the cause of her awakening almost immediately, seeing Quinn balled up on the far side of the bed shivering harshly. She looked so tiny - so frail - curled up like that. 

Rachel’s heart clinched at the sight; she was almost sure it broke. Leaping from the bed like a runner from the block she darted out into the hall, determined to find the extra blankets she should have thought to gather earlier. Once in the dark with the bedroom door closed behind her however, she found herself lost and anxious again. In a strange house in the dead of night, with multiple doors facing her, she felt as if any one of them could lead her right into the ‘lion’s den’ as it were. What if she threw open a door and instead of the much needed blankets she found herself stumbling into Quinn’s mother’s room? Or worse, one of her scarier relatives?

Indecision warred in Rachel’s mind as she eyed each door down the darkened hall with growing trepidation. It felt a bit like a game of Russian roulette.

“Eenie, meenie, miney, moe?” she whispered to herself and bit into her lip. She was saved (or doomed) from her uncertainty by the click and groan of another door opening. Judy abruptly appeared with a groggy and quizzical look. They stared at one another, blinking as though trying to decide if they should each run and hide. Finally Rachel slumped, shoulders falling as she gave in, and gestured limply back at Quinn’s bedroom door. “Quinn is freezing, are there extra blankets?”

Judy hesitated, but only briefly, before she stepped out and opened the closet. “I forgot that she gets cold at night.”

That’s not all you ‘forgot’, Rachel seethed. She barely managed to catch herself before she said it aloud. Sometimes speaking one’s mind was more a curse than a gift, and in this instance she figured some things were better left locked behind her teeth. “In the summer she melts,” she commented instead, shaking her head. Judy came back down the hall, arms laden with a few thick looking quilts. Rachel accepted them with a soft thank you and turned on her heel to make a hasty retreat back to Quinn.

“Rachel…”

She froze and closed her eyes tightly, so close to getting out unscathed! “Yes?”

“I’m – I’m so glad Quinn has someone like you in her life.”

“I was under the distinct impression that you frowned upon her – our -- lifestyle?” Rachel forced herself to turn around, meeting Judy’s stare and setting her jaw. Yes, Judy had kicked out her husband and brought her child back home. But Rachel couldn’t forgive her for the neglect she’d witnessed and still saw evidence of in Quinn. All she’d done was put a roof back over her child’s head – a roof that shouldn’t have ever been removed in the first place. Beyond that, now that Rachel knew about Russell and the abuse Quinn had suffered at his hands... Judy had watched Quinn fall to pieces and done nothing. Nothing. It shattered Rachel’s heart and didn’t leave her with many good things to say or think about the shy looking woman before her.

Judy’s rigid posture screamed her discomfort with the conversation and Rachel made herself stand down. The thought that Quinn didn’t need this on top of everything else was the only thing tempering Rachel’s words. Judy might not, but Rachel would always protect Quinn.

“I’m sorry. I’m tired and worried about her. I didn’t mean to snap and make you more uncomfortable,” she apologized and grit her teeth at the bitter taste it left in her mouth.

“No, I probably deserve everything I imagine you’re holding back, Rachel. And that’s why I wanted to talk to you, again. Quinn needs you and you’re there for her, more than I ever was. I suppose I’m trying to say ‘thank you’ but I don’t really know how to.” Judy bowed her head, then shocked Rachel into dropping her blankets when she surged forwards and caged her in a gentle embrace. “I may not understand all of Quinn’s choices in life, but I’m proud of her and I can’t ignore how happy you make her. You are not a mistake... I see that now and I want to tell you thank you. Thank you for loving my daughter. Thank you for taking care of her, for protecting her like I always should have. I – I approve of you, Rachel. I hope that makes sense.”

Rachel’s arms moved up and closed around Judy, awkwardly returning the hug as the enormity of what had just happened hit her like a bag of bricks. “I know that was hard, Judy, but thank you for being brave enough to say it. I hope before Quinn and I leave you can be brave enough to tell her as well. She deserves to hear it.”

“I will see if I can muster up the courage for that,” Judy said, releasing Rachel from her hold. 

“Good. I better get these back to Quinn before she turns into an ice sculpture.” Slightly weirded out by the missed left turn at Albuquerque her night had taken, Rachel stooped to pick the quilts up and hustled back into her room before another relative could appear and scare the bejesus out of her. She heard Judy whisper ‘good night’ just as Quinn’s bedroom door closed behind her.

Quinn was crying - finally - and trying to muffle the sounds with her pillow. Rachel heard them clearly though, each whimper and hitched breath like a blow to her stomach. She bit back her own tears, and quickly shook out the blankets. Quinn jumped when Rachel unfurled the first one over her quivering body. She layered the chilly quilts over Quinn and then crawled up on the bed. “Can I be the big spoon tonight?”

She plastered herself up against Quinn, reaching over and closing her smaller hand over her girlfriend’s fist, holding on for dear life. At the contact the proverbial dam broke and Quinn started to sob in earnest, her whole body bucking with the effort. Rachel didn’t shush her because she knew Quinn needed this. Instead she busied her lips with pale skin and hair, pressing achingly careful kisses in a random pattern as Quinn poured her heartache out on her pillow.

It took a while before her tears gave way to sniffles, and Rachel continued to hold her, temple now resting between elegant shoulder blades. She could hear the rapid thump of Quinn’s heartbeat and feel her ragged breathing start to even out, until with one last deep inhale and hard exhale all the tension drained from her body and she went limp. Rachel stretched back out, kissing Quinn’s ear softly - and a little sloppily - which made Quinn squirm and giggle tiredly. When she felt a squeeze to her fingers Rachel released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“I’m so cold,” Quinn mumbled. Rachel cuddled her closer and dropped her face to warm the crook of Quinn’s neck. Cold she could deal with; cold she could fix.

Quinn shifted her shoulders slightly, a warning to Rachel who wiggled back to give her room to roll over. The singer could just make out the glitter of wet eyes when Quinn rolled to face her. Smiling sweetly she tucked one arm under her head and reached out with the other to cup Quinn’s tear streaked cheek.

“I don’t want to talk,” Quinn said tiredly.

Rachel just rubbed her thumb in small circles and waited. She didn’t have to for long. Quinn shuffled forward and wormed her way firmly into Rachel’s bubble, sniffling and snuffling. She balled herself back up, ear to Rachel’s chest as Rachel slipped her fingers into gold colored hair and began to sift through it, lightly tugging at the strands between her fingers over and over. Normally she would hum or sing something in moments like this, but it felt to her like it would be too much. Everything about their weekend had been dramatic, and here in the quiet they needed simple. She dropped her head and maneuvered her body until both she and Quinn were comfortably tangled together, keeping her hand at its task.

There were a couple of ways to get Quinn to open up. One was silence and patience. The other was to talk herself. Rachel closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Ryan had warned her, but she didn’t know how else to help Quinn and she needed to help her.

When she opened her eyes again her vision was blurred, and this time she didn’t try to fight it. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks and her lips trembled, so she pressed them into Quinn’s hair and tugged her closer. “I feel so guilty.”

“What?” Quinn’s voice was rough, but the squeak came through loud and clear.

“I think I knew somehow, deep down, that you needed a friend, but you needed more than... more than someone to go shopping with. I didn’t know about - about your past, but the clues... I should’ve paid more attention or tried harder.”

“Rachel...”

“No. It’s not fair, Quinn. You went through all of that alone and I can’t believe that we all - that I ignored the signs. I wish I could’ve done more.”

“I wouldn’t have let you.”

“It doesn’t matter, because I know that. You were always so good at keeping everyone at arm’s length. But now? I’m your girlfriend, I love you, desperately so, and I should’ve asked you.”

“You don’t need to feel guilty about it. If anything, I should have talked to you about it. I just don’t know how.”

“I can’t - “ Rachel gasped as her carefully maintained defenses fell, tears falling faster now. “I can’t believe how he hurt you. My imagination is active as ever and I keep seeing you - little you - and it’s breaking my heart.”

Quinn shuddered, no longer as cold but still feeling so much, too much. She wasn’t good at this, she’d never been good at talking. Always afraid that if she let somebody see, let them in, they’d leave. Her father had, after all. She’d loved him, trusted him, even forgiven him in some ways and he’d thrown her out like garbage - tainted, destroyed forever in his eyes. Unrecognizable. The thought of Rachel... losing Rachel would be too much.

But Rachel was holding on to her, so tightly it bordered on uncomfortable, and she could hear her crying as quietly as possible. Quinn couldn’t stand it, and she knew that Rachel was asking for everything and yet nothing at all. 

“I want to know why.” Quinn said softly, barely breathing the sentence into Rachel’s shirt. Her voice cracked on the last word and she loathed it, that stupid word that haunted her every time she thought of Russell. “That is the biggest question victims ask. Every case I’ve ever worked, we all just want to know why. I think, in some ways, my job - my life, it all comes down to wanting to know ‘why’. I never asked him, and now I’ll never be able to.”

“Baby, sometimes... sometimes you don’t want to hear their excuses.” Rachel paused and licked her lips, hesitant because she wasn’t sure if she was saying more than she should. “There is nothing he could say that would make what happened okay. You were a child, you were his child. Nothing justifies what he did.”

“I know, but I still wanted to hear it. I wanted him to say it; I wanted to see his eyes.” Needing to see Rachel’s face, Quinn pushed gently against Rachel’s shoulder and propped herself up on one arm. She couldn’t quite find the courage to look into teary brown eyes, reaching up to play with the Star of David resting against Rachel’s sternum instead. "You don't need to feel guilty. I should, for not saying anything all this time and then especially for staying silent when I knew coming back here would bring it back up."

Rachel stayed quiet, watching Quinn fiddle with her necklace. She kept running one hand through Quinn's hair, using the other to wipe at the tears still slowly trickling down her face. "You're so brave all the time; I've told you before, you don't have to be with me. I won't judge you, Quinn. I trust you; I want you to trust me too."

"I do, I really do. I just didn't want - I didn't want you to leave. It's not a happy topic or one that's easy to bring up and it's even harder to accept." Quinn heaved a sigh and forced her eyes up to Rachel's, tensing as she saw the tears. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before and - I'm sorry for this weekend."

"You don't need to apologize; you know that, don't you?" Rachel said. "They should be apologizing to you."

"That's never going to happen," Quinn snorted and slowly put her head back down on Rachel's stomach.

"It should, and your mom, Quinn... your mom, I think she has wanted to tell you how sorry she is for a long time. She's afraid of the same thing you are: that the moment the topic comes up you'll run and she'll never see you again. I'm not happy with her; I can't forgive her because I'm so angry for what she didn't do for you... but I'm not her daughter. She wants to talk to you, and if you can, I think you should." Rachel tried to smile and half-way succeeded, her fingers tracing around Quinn's ear. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Why did you want to come back for this funeral?"

Quinn played with the hem of Rachel's shirt, sneaking her fingertips underneath to feel warm skin. The silkiness was familiar and soothing. "To say goodbye, really say goodbye. I never actually said that to him, the night that he - that I went to live with Finn… And because my mom, she’s still my mom, Rach. I missed her before. I still do."

A sympathy pang rang dully in Rachel’s chest. She knew all too well what it was like to miss a parent. To wonder about them, wonder if they ever thought of the child they had no contact with.

Fresh tears welled and fell while Rachel did her best to constrict her throat around the whimper trying to escape. “Your mother loves you.”

“She didn’t even come up when I was shot.”

God. The whimper got out that time. “Nobody wants to see… Quinn, you almost died and it...I couldn’t – I can’t -- even imagine what it was like for her.”

Unable to handle the thought of her girlfriend in that damned hospital bed with the breathing tube and the wires, Rachel tugged on Quinn’s hand.

“She didn’t even call,” Quinn whispered as she obeyed Rachel’s demand, scooting back up until the top of her head bumped the bottom of Rachel’s chin.

“I was terrified. I barely ate, I didn’t sleep, and sometimes I think I stopped breathing, that my heart stopped beating.” Rachel confessed, her hand gently palming the back of Quinn’s head. She tried to calm her racing pulse, sliding her other hand up and down Quinn’s back, soaking in the feeling of Quinn’s body stretched out on hers, and the way her chest pressed up into Quinn’s when she managed a raggedy inhale. “Judy must’ve been paralyzed with fear. Not knowing if you were going to live, or if you would even accept her if she came running. She knows she let you down, and I can only imagine how awful it would be – to be trapped here and wait for a phone call when everything inside wants to be there with you.”

“For someone who doesn’t like her very much, you’re doing a good job defending her.”

“I’m not defending her,” Rachel hissed, curling her hand into a fist at the base of Quinn’s spine. “I’m defending you. You want your mother and I want you to have that. You can’t get answers from your father, but you can get them from Judy.”

The room tumbled into silence, punctuated only with the sounds of occasional sniffles as tears dried and minds swirled.

“I’m sorry.”

Rachel shook her head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“You’re always taking care of me and I feel like I’m never taking care of you.”

Ducking her head awkwardly, Rachel kissed the top of Quinn’s and basked in the faint scent of citrus. “You take care of me all the time. You make sure I eat. You call and check on me; you’re always protecting me. You make me feel safe and loved and do all these little things that make me feel spoiled. I’m blessed to have you, Quinn. Doing things like this for you makes me feel like I’m doing my part too. Never be sorry for letting me do this.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Where else would I be but at your side?” Rachel asked and sighed at how lame that sounded in her own ears. No more old school romance films for me.

“Cheesy lady,” Quinn snickered.

Rachel swatted at her playfully, “Hush, you.”

“I love you, and your cheesy lines,” Quinn assured her.

“As a vegan the idea of being ‘cheesy’ makes me a little ill. I appreciate that you didn’t refer to me or them as ‘nacho’ cheesy. Heavily processed cheese is an abomination.” Rachel cocked her head to catch a glimpse of the curve of Quinn’s lips. 

“I love you, and your vegan cheese substitute lines.”

“That’s better. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Rachel stayed awake awhile, even after Quinn fell back to sleep, hand still moving through silky blonde hair. She offered up a silent prayer that Judy would be a mother for once and talk to Quinn. If there was one thing she’d learned from her experiences, or inexperiences really, with Shelby, it was that children always needed their mother, no matter their age or the situation.

She closed her eyes against the pain those particular memories and thoughts caused, willing herself to keep from venturing down that long, twisty road so late (or early), and snuggled Quinn closer.

There’d be plenty of time for more family drama when they woke up.


	8. Chapter 8

When Rachel and Quinn got up both of their eyes were so swollen there was nothing either of them could do but laugh.

"You look like you had an allergic reaction," Quinn giggled as Rachel pouted at her reflection in the mirror.

"An allergic reaction to what? Your pillow?" Rachel turned around, trying to glare at Quinn through her puffy eyelids. "We look like cavewomen."

"Cavewomen?"

"Shut up, you," Rachel said, snorting. "I need a shower."

"It's across the hall," Quinn said helpfully as she dug around in their suitcase, handing Rachel a clean pair of jeans and a neon pink bra -- clearly Rachel’s.

"I know where it is." Rachel paused at the door. "Are you coming with me?"

"Somehow I don't think our sharing a shower would be much appreciated by the rest of the household."

"I'd roll my eyes at you, if I could. Get your mind out of the gutter, I merely meant that you could, uh, keep watch? You know you’re quite vulnerable in the shower; remember Psycho?" Rachel said, taking the offered toiletries bag from Quinn.

Quinn tilted her head back, as though consulting the heavens for advice, and sighed. "Rachel..."

"Fine, fine. But if Uncle Phillip breaks down the door and attempts to stab me with a crucifix I'm blaming you." Rachel warned and grabbed the matching underwear from Quinn's fingers.

"If my dear Uncle happens to walk in on you in the shower I'm pretty sure all he will do is blaspheme and fall all over himself to escape your nakedness." Quinn snickered as she continued to dig through their clothes. She made a triumphant noise and yanked free her prized Georgetown t-shirt, only to whine as Rachel snagged it from her and quickly dashed across the hall.

When Rachel returned to the room, Quinn was waiting for her and leaned in to whisper, "The coast is still clear," before she dodged Rachel's swat and all but dove into the steam filled bathroom.

Rachel shook her head, albeit fondly, and turned her attention to re-packing the suitcase, the contents of which were now tossed around the floor.

By the time Quinn came back Rachel had everything neatly folded and tucked back away and was sitting on the end of the bed swinging her legs back and forth.

"I see you survived," she joked and reached out with both hands for Quinn. "Come here?"

Lopsided smile firmly in place, Quinn nudged Rachel's knees apart, stepping up against the end of the bed to return Rachel's hold. They both sighed and Quinn bent to kiss the crown of Rachel's head. "Why does it feel like I haven't seen you in forever?"

"It's just stress," Rachel said and hummed contentedly. "And then relief making you realize how stressed you were, which in turn makes it seem like we've been here for months."

Quinn pondered that for a second, "It worries me when you make sense."

"Get used to it."

"Right away, your Majesty."

"Oooh, 'Majesty', that's a new one. You can keep that one."

Rachel giggled and Quinn growled playfully, then closed her eyes and sighed again. "It's weird to feel so normal again."

"How so?"

"Just, with everything that happened in the last two days. I feel like it's okay now."

"That's a good thing, right?" Rachel asked, a little timidly. She loved the natural feeling they'd both woken to, but she didn't want Quinn to bury things or feel like she needed to sweep them under the rug just so they could pretend everything was fine if it wasn't.

"Yeah, it's a good thing." Quinn pulled back and grinned at Rachel's pouty bottom lip, pushing it back in with her finger. "Speaking of normal... stand up."

Rachel felt both her eyebrows lift as she stared up at Quinn. "Huh?"

"Stand up," Quinn repeated slowly and gripped Rachel under the armpits, lifting her off the mattress. 

"That's better," she said once Rachel had settled her sock clad feet back on the floor.

"And you say I'm the confusing one," Rachel grumbled and scrunched her nose up.

"It just occurred to me," Quinn said, dragging her thumb across Rachel's lower lip teasingly. "I haven't kissed you all weekend."

Rachel's breath caught in her chest. "Oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"Yes - no, I mean... I think you should remedy that. Immediately."

Quinn grinned and tipped her head down, "yes, your Majesty." She closed the gap between them and kissed her so gently it made Rachel ache.

Rachel's eyes fluttered back open when Quinn pulled away. She groaned and headbutted Quinn's shoulder once and then again. "I hate when you do that."

"Do what?" Quinn asked, pulling at the hem of her stolen shirt.

"Kiss me like that," Rachel huffed. "It makes me feel like an idiot."

"An idiot?"

"Yes, an idiot. I can’t think straight! I now want to climb on the roof and sing loud enough for the whole state to hear how ridiculously in love with you I am."

Quinn tugged at the shirt and chuckled warmly against Rachel's ear. "How is that idiotic? You do that all the time."

"That's not the point," Rachel whined, cocking her head back to look Quinn right in her smirking face.   
"You do that to me and I feel like... I don't even know. It's indescribable."

Quinn's smirk grew decidedly more smug. "So what you're saying is I'm an amazing kisser, capable of knocking your head straight into the clouds?"

"Something like that," Rachel said and kissed Quinn again. "Don't look so pleased with yourself, Quinn Fabray."

"I'll work on it," Quinn quirked an eyebrow and then her expression shifted, a more serious look replacing the self-satisfied one. She snuck her fingers under the faded grey t-shirt and skimmed the pads over Rachel's stomach.

"Quinn?" Rachel said, shuddering at the ticklish sensation.

“You know it’s funny...I know this is my shirt, my favorite shirt. I remember when I bought it and I have quite a few fond memories of times when I was wearing it. Like the time I snuck out with my roommate because she said my constant studying was driving her nuts and I drank way too much whiskey before we wound up sitting at the WWII memorial somehow, late into the night. It’s really peaceful there, quiet and somber. But as much as this may be mine, it smells more like you now and somehow that’s so much better. Now whenever I manage to get to wear it, it’s like wearing you. That sounds sort of creepy, doesn’t it? I just mean that, I love that, I put it on and I can almost feel you.”

“It’s not creepy at all,” Rachel assured her. “It’s why I started wearing it in the first place. It’s been my way to have you with me, as close as possible when you’re not there.”

“We are such saps,” Quinn laughed.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Rachel peered up at her for a long moment, biting her lip as she considered something. She backed away from their loose embrace and Quinn’s eyebrows shot up as Rachel dragged the thin grey material up over her head. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, ‘cause it looks like you’re stripping.”

“Well, yes, I suppose I am but it’s not an attempt to get into your pants, I promise. I’ve heard that couples tend to engage in sexual activities after funerals, but that’s not what I’m doing. I love you and I’m more than happy to show you that physically once we’re safely back home, but your relatives actually frighten me a little and I don’t wish to cause a scene should they hear or, heaven forbid, walk in on us. I wanted to give you this.” Rachel held out the still warm article of clothing. Quinn took it from her, forehead wrinkling as she stared from the shirt, to Rachel, and back. “I think you need it more than me today.”

Understanding lit up Quinn’s eyes, she smiled and set the shirt down on the end of the bed so she could pull her own off. She handed over the dark red material and Rachel immediately yanked it down over her chilled skin, sighing as it warmed her. As soon as Quinn was clothed again Rachel pressed back into her, wrapping her arms around Quinn’s hips to settle her forehead down against her chest.

“Rachel the Lionheart Berry is afraid of my relatives, huh?” Quinn teased lightly.

Rachel blinked at the unexpected nickname and felt heat creep across her cheeks. She ducked her head and tightened her grip around Quinn. “Please,” she said once she’d relocated her voice, and looking up at Quinn through her lashes with a knowing smirk. “I saw the look on your face when your mother told you about Uncle Phillip staying here.”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “Touche.”

\--

When they hit the bottom of the stairs they parted, Quinn heading for the kitchen and Rachel for the living room. Rachel paused and looked over her shoulder at exactly the same time as Quinn and she had to smile. “I go left, and you stay right?”

“You do know how to save a life.” Quinn tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen. “I – my mom.”

Rachel nodded, “I’m really proud of you.”

Quinn gaze flicked over Rachel’s shoulder briefly before settling back with a knowing look. “You be careful.”

“I’m just going to talk; you’re the one who goes to the grocery store armed,” Rachel teasingly replied.

“Rachel, have you heard yourself yell in traffic? You’re always armed and dangerous.”

“I’m trying to decide if that’s a compliment or not. I’ll have to reply later when I’ve figured it out.” With a gesture towards the kitchen, where the sounds of breakfast making could be heard, Rachel turned, squared her shoulders and marched into the danger zone. “Ryan might have been right. Perhaps combat gear is needed.” Cautiously she peeked her head around the corner, and saw darling Uncle Phillip enjoying the morning paper with a drink. She watched him finish the last dregs of the beverage and decided it was now or never.

Phillip looked up from the newspaper and his warm smile dropped into a scowl when he saw her. “You. I do not want you in my presence.”

Rachel held up her hands, “Trust me, the feeling is entirely mutual. However I have something I’d like to say to you before we leave you to your homophobia.”

“Some homosexual propaganda, I’m sure,” he sneered, but folded his newspaper neatly and set it on the armrest of his chair. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that you love my niece and there’s nothing unnatural or perverted about it. I will not be as easily swayed by lies as she is.”

Feeling her lip curl in utter distaste for the man in front of her, Rachel shook her head and dug her nails into her palm. Do not lose your temper. Calm, steady, and sure. “No, I didn’t come in here for that. My relationship is just that – mine. It has nothing to do with you and your opinions.”

“Maybe you’re not as stupid as you look.”

They glared at each other for several unbearably long seconds before Rachel took a deep breath and searched her heart for the words she’d been hiding since the moment he’d verbally assaulted her girlfriend. “This whole weekend I’ve seen and heard more than I ever imagined, and instead of wanting to run away screaming... I’ve never been more sure of my relationship with your niece. With that said, there are certain things about her past that I - I can’t actually believe, or wouldn’t have if I hadn’t seen the evidence of it in Quinn for years.” Rachel shook her head and fixed a hard glare on Phillip’s confused blue eyes. “You are poison. Just like I would imagine your younger brother was. He was younger wasn’t he? Trying to live up to your glorious example, no doubt. You taint and destroy everything you touch - and don’t bother with denying it. I can see it in your face. You’re a waste of a human being.”

“Young lady,” Phillip growled, but Rachel saw something other than anger flicker across his face and she knew she had him. Squaring her shoulders, she kept going, letting her words tumble out freely, uncensored.

“Is it because you’re scared? Or because you’re jealous and bitter? Russell had the family, the pretty wife and children, and you got nothing. You’re a sad, pathetic, lonely man.” Taking two steps forward Rachel snatched up the empty tumbler next to his hand, turned it upside down and smacked it back down on the table. “Someday, when all the booze and excuses are gone, you’re going to die and there won’t be anything left to numb it. Who’s going to be there to mourn your absence? The liquor isn’t. I feel sorry for you, Phillip, because that’s not a fate I would wish on anyone, even someone as twisted as you’ve let yourself become.”

With that said Rachel levelled a look of genuine pity at him, making sure to hold his stare for as long as she could, and then executed a more collected version of a storm out. She didn’t march away, but she turned her back on him and walked steadily, only letting her face crumble when she knew he couldn’t see it.

She was a lot of things, she knew that, but she was never going to be a person who would let someone like that see her cry for them.

\--

In the kitchen, Quinn approached her mother like some sort of bomb she would have to disarm. Judy was elbow deep in sudsy water, already washing up from breakfast - she’d always told Quinn the easiest way to maintain a tidy kitchen was to clean as you went. It felt more than a little strange, to be thinking about that and standing back in the place she’d first heard it. Back then she’d had to use a step stool to reach the sink.

Judy was humming something just under her breath as she wiped at a bowl. When she was younger Quinn had always thought it was a strange idea, to pre-wash something before she stuck it in the dishwasher to be washed again. But now, she had to smile at the familiarity of it all as softly cleared her throat to try and keep from startling her mother.

Judy jumped anyway and jerked around, throwing bubbles onto Quinn. “Oh! Quinn, I’m sorry!”

Quinn bit her lip and shook her head, a laugh threatening as she looked down at her water splattered shirt. “We haven’t had a water fight in a while, Mom, but I don’t think now’s a great time to start one.”

A crooked smile briefly appeared on Judy’s face before it fell and she sank back against the sink. “I - I’m still sorry.Not about the shirt, I...”

"Mom," Quinn said, dropping her head to stare at her toes.

"I really am. I'm so sorry, Quinn." She moved to turn the water off before giving Quinn her full attention. Biting into her bottom lip, she wrung her hands as her confession hung between them.

“Do you know why I came back?” Quinn asked, dragging her gaze up from the toe of her shoes to look Judy in the eye. “It wasn’t for him,” she said slowly. “It was for you.”

Judy sucked in a rough sounding breath and touched her fingers to her forehead. “Quinn, I know that I’ve failed you so many times,” she said. Her chin wobbled, and Quinn had to fight the urge to do something, anything, to keep from closing the distance between them. She hadn’t hugged her mother, hadn’t really had contact with her, since her graduation from the FBI Academy. They’d never been touchy people, at least not with each other. Quinn had realized that in her relationships with others, especially with Rachel, she craved that contact. She wanted it constantly - the connection with someone - even if it was just a brush of fingers. After being able to give in to that desire for closeness it was almost unbearable to deny herself the comfort she knew both she and Judy would get from human contact. But she also knew that if she made a move towards Judy now her mother would shut down. So she stood her ground and shoved her fingers into her pockets, waiting for Judy to continue. “I can’t make that right; I can’t change what happened but… I want to be the mother you deserve, honey. I – I would do anything to be that for you.”

Quinn licked her lips, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. “I want to know why.”

“Why?” Judy blanched, and Quinn could read the hesitation, but she couldn’t let it stop her. They’d both been running from the conversation for too long. 

“Yeah, I know you can’t tell me why - why Dad did what he did - but I want to know why you let him.” Her vision was starting to blur and she paused to brush her fingers under her eyes. “Why didn’t we leave, Mom?”

“It’s complicated, Quinn,” Judy sighed. “He was my husband and I was very lost. I couldn’t stand the thought that I might lose all of you if I ever said anything. You have to understand - we all loved your father at times, and it wasn’t until I saw him turn his back on you that I realized the man I married was gone. In keeping my silence to keep you I ended up losing you anyway. Camille left as soon as she could, and then you were gone and... Quinn, it’s not an easy place to be as a wife and a mother. I didn’t know how to choose without losing you altogether. If I’d left him earlier, there’s a good chance he could have gained custody of you girls, and then I wouldn’t be there to stop him at all.”

“You never stopped him,” Quinn said and screwed her eyes shut. She could still smell the leather of Russell’s shoes under her and his cologne on the jackets hanging over her head in that damn closet.

“No, you’re right, but I almost always found out after it was too late to stop it. I tried, I really did, but it seemed like all I could do was try and take care of you after.”

Unsatisfied, but unable to see a way to get what she wanted, Quinn whimpered and shook her head. “Why didn’t you come up when I - when I was in the hospital? I looked for you.”

Judy hesitated and then reached out to touch Quinn’s cheek. “I was so afraid that I would show up and you would already be gone. Or worse, that you wouldn’t want me there. I wanted to be there, to hold your hand and tell you it would be okay, but it’s not my place anymore, I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“What do you mean, not your place? You’re my mom.” Quinn rubbed at the scar under her shirt and didn’t stop even when Judy put her hand atop of hers and squeezed.

“I called Camille, you know, and I begged her for updates. I asked if I should come - if you needed me. She said,” Judy smiled again, as another wave of tears snaked down her cheeks, “she said I could if I wanted, that Rachel had asked about me. She said that Rachel barely left your side, that your partner was forcing her to leave, to eat - and I realized that you don’t need me anymore. You have someone else - someone better - who loves you and protects you and fights for you. More than I ever did. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was jealous of Rachel; I was afraid to see with my own eyes how you’d replaced me, even though I’m glad that you did.”

“Do you love me?” Quinn asked, barely able to get the words past her lips.

Judy cupped Quinn’s face with both hands, and chuckled soggily. “More than I could possibly say.”

Quinn nodded. “Then that’s enough.”

“About Rachel... Quinn, I didn’t understand at first when you told me that you – about her. I was afraid of what it all meant, but now that I’ve met her and seen the way that you look at her... I told her last night, and I want you to know, even if it doesn’t matter, that I approve of her. I think she’s an amazing woman, and I’d be happy to have her as a daughter-in-law.”

“Thank you.” Quinn moved forward and carefully, as though it might break both of them, drew her mother in for a hug.

From around the corner Rachel watched with both hands against her mouth, covering her smile, as tears meandered down her cheeks.

Finally.

\--

The drive back to the airport was filled with more stories of baby Rachel, and Quinn laughed until her stomach hurt while Rachel fake pouted at her fathers, groaning good-naturedly at every embarrassing tidbit that they could recall.

She was more than certain that if Quinn didn't think she was crazy before she definitely would now, especially after the tale of little Rachel Berry sitting in front of the television singing her heart out to 'Part of your World' with the Little Mermaid - only to remark, quite seriously to her fathers, that she wanted to be a mermaid when she grew up.

It wasn’t until they were standing just off the entrance to security that Rachel realized it was time to say goodbye to her fathers again, and her eyes immediately welled up with tears as she looked from one face to the other. 

“Oh no, don’t cry yet!” Hiram sniffled. “I’m supposed to wait until I’m in the car.”

Leroy rolled his eyes, rubbing Hiram’s shoulder soothingly.

Rachel leapt at Hiram, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she whimpered. “I want to see you more! I’m going to forget what you look like!”

“We need to Skype more often - every day,” Hiram agreed, crushing Rachel against him and kissing the top of her head over and over. “You too, Quinn, come on, get in here!”

Quinn smiled lopsidedly, shyly shuffling over, and choking slightly in surprise when Hiram threw an arm around her neck and squeezed her into his chest alongside Rachel.

“Alright, my turn,” Leroy sighed and opened his arms wide. Rachel wasted no time in rushing to him, giggling soggily when he picked her up and spun her in a tight circle. “Goodbye, baby, try not to keep us in the dark for another year,” he teased. “Especially not when you two get engaged,” he whispered against her ear.

“Daddy!” She squeaked and slapped at him. “I’d never.”

“Miss Fabray, don’t think I’m letting you off with my little girl without a proper farewell,” Leroy said.

“Just don’t spin me around,” Quinn quipped, stretching on her tiptoes to hug him as well.

“This from the cheerleader,” he said and lifted her off her feet for a couple of seconds. 

“Former cheerleader,” Quinn cheekily corrected.

“You take care of my baby,” he said, pointing his finger right at her nose as Quinn nodded.

“Always,” she promised and reached out for Rachel’s hand, features softening when Rachel laced their fingers together. 

“Okay, go... go, before I make a scene,” Hiram said, shooing them towards security. 

“Too late,” Leroy chuckled, pulling Hiram into his side.

Quinn steered a silently crying Rachel into line for security, holding tightly to the hand in hers as they trudged their way through. “You’ll see them again soon,” she whispered, dotting a kiss to the ear peeking out through dark hair. Rachel sighed and bobbed her head in a short nod.

The world seemed to have righted itself once again as the two hastily made their way through security and ambled off towards their gate. Rachel secretly loved watching Quinn go through airport security; it was one of the most amusing things to see. Quinn was almost OCD about the way she placed her items in trays. She was sure there was a story there somewhere, perhaps about Quinn losing something to the evil x-ray machine. 

Her smile fell the tiniest bit as she wondered if it had more to do with the herd of people lined up, pressed in close like cattle. Maybe it was Quinn's claustrophobia and not an adorable need to keep all of her belongings.

That realization made her feel like the worst girlfriend in the world.

“Hey,” Rachel said lightly, bumping a hip into Quinn who was walking alongside her with a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. A small, satisfied almost-smirk that instantly banished all thoughts of panic attacks from her mind. “What’s the smile for?”

“I have to have a reason to smile?” Quinn asked playfully and slid her arm around Rachel, holding gently to her bicep.

“Well, no,” Rachel backpedalled. “I was just curious.”

“We only packed one suitcase.”

Rachel shot a questioning glance up at her as they came up to their gate. She sat down next to her and thought about packing, blinking when she realized Quinn was correct. They’d only packed one suitcase. “Does that mean something, Brainy Smurf?”

Quinn shrugged, “I think it does. Doesn’t it to you?”

"I'll have to get back to you on that," Rachel said, frowning slightly.

"You do that," Quinn teased and flopped down in their boarding area. "I don't suppose I could talk you into getting me another delicious energy drink?"

"Like you need it," Rachel grumbled, smiling sweetly as she did.

"I'm not the one who acts like a hummingbird on speed when I get the slightest dose of anything resembling an 'upper'. I remember you flitting about after that Vitamin D incident in Glee club."

Rachel felt her stomach drop as she remembered her harsh speech to Mr. Schuester at the funeral. She sat down, oh so slowly, next to Quinn, who immediately picked up in the sudden change of mood.

"Rachel?"

"I - I'm going to go get you a redbull and, um, I think something for me."

"Are you okay?" Quinn clasped her hand around Rachel's wrist and leaned over, searching her face for answers. "Rachel?"

"I'm fine, Quinn, I just got really... sleepy suddenly and I don't want to sleep on the plane or I'll never fall asleep tonight. I'll be right back." She leaned over and kissed Quinn’s cheek before jumping up, purse in hand, and heading back towards the various shops.

As soon as she was out of Quinn’s line of sight she pulled her bag open and plucked out her phone. Rubbing at her mouth, she waited for the line to be picked up.

“Rachel?” Hiram answered, sounding more than a little surprised. Rachel couldn’t blame him; they had just dropped them off at the airport, after all.

“Dad, I – I made a mistake,” she blurted out and turned in a circle, looking for a place to sit down before she fell over.

In the silence between her confession and his answer she could hear the deep rumble of Leroy’s voice and the ever annoying sounds of a car in motion. It made her feel like she would have to shout to be heard over the noise. “What happened?”

Closing her eyes, Rachel gave up on her search for a seat, plastering her back against the nearest wall to slide down to sit on the floor. “I lost control and I took it out on someone who didn’t really deserve it.”

“Honey… did you and Quinn have a fight?”

“No,” Rachel blanched at the thought. Fighting with Quinn after the emotionally draining weekend would be borderline cruel. “No, of course not. It was someone else entirely.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“With everything going on, I just... lost it.” Rachel said, letting her head fall back against the wall as she replayed her cutting words and the look on her victim’s face. “Mr. Schuester was at the funeral and he was talking to me and I think I heard what I wanted to – like I made an excuse to vent my frustrations. I don’t know what to do.”

“Rach, you and Quinn had a very full weekend. Nobody’s perfect. You know that, so now you go and fix it.”

“How?” She whimpered, feeling like some sort of monster. 

“Be an adult - call him and apologize. Trust me, he’ll appreciate it.”

Rachel straightened up, sniffed mightily, squared her shoulders, and nodded her head – even though Hiram couldn’t see it. She was ready; she was Rachel Berry and she could do this. “Do you have his number?”

“I’ll text it to you.”

“Thank you.” She disconnected the call and drummed her fingers against her drawn up knees as she waited and waited and waited… until her phone chimed and she froze, staring at the number in front of her.

Rachel the Lionheart Berry, she remembered Quinn saying. With a shake of her head she tapped her finger to the number and lifted her phone back to her ear. A small smile pulled at her lips as ‘Bad to the Bone’ filled her ears. “Bad to the Bone, Mr. Schue?” she groaned. “Really?”

“Schuester residence!” Another familiar voice chirped across the line, and Rachel tried not to laugh as she remembered kneeling over a toilet bowl with an anxious Emma Pillsbury hovering behind her.

“Hello, Mrs. Schuester, it’s Rachel Berry,” She said politely after clearing her throat of an imaginary obstruction.

“Oh, Rachel, hi! This is a nice surprise,” Emma squeaked breathily. “I keep telling Will we need to go see your show. I’ve read all your reviews and I’m just dying to see you in action.”

“You’re so sweet,” Rachel chuckled. “I would love for you guys to come up and see the show. You have to let me know so I can get you backstage. Is Will there?”

“Yes, of course, hold on a second… Will!”

The pause was just long enough for Rachel’s nerves to surface again and threaten to choke her. She pushed them back, just as she had several times already over the weekend, briefly wondering if she could develop an ulcer or something from all the suppressing she was doing.

Maybe she and Quinn should go get massages when they got home, before the tension in their bodies turned them each in to one giant knot.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Schuester…” Rachel fumbled, only for a second, as his greeting yanked her out of her pondering. She frowned at the phone when she realized she had no idea what to say. “I – well, I’m calling to apologize to you for my behavior at the funeral. It’s been one hell of a weekend and I’m so sorry for taking it out on you. I shouldn’t have; it was incredibly rude of me.”

All she heard for a couple of seconds was his breathing, and then the sound of movement followed by the click of a door. “Rachel, you’re not the only one who should apologize. I was thinking a lot about what you said and I’m sorry that I made you feel defensive. It’s not my place to question your life or the choices you make. I also - I didn’t know about you and Quinn. I’m actually really happy for you two – surprised for sure, but genuinely happy that you found each other.”

“Thank you,” Rachel sighed, curling her knees in tighter to her chest. “About what I said, about Quinn and her family and your relationship with her… I had no right to lay that all on you. It’s not your fault and I was... I was feeling guilty because I was there too and I didn’t know.”

“You know, it’s not easy being a teacher,” Will said slowly, and Rachel felt her eyes tear up. “There’s this line and it moves. You’re never sure when you’ve gone too far or not far enough. I tried; I still try, to be a good teacher but I mess up sometimes. I’m not perfect, and I’ve never claimed to be. Quinn was - God, I didn’t know what to do with her. I wasn’t her parent and I wasn’t a friend. I was her teacher.” 

“I understand, Mr. Schue – I’m so embarrassed for what I said to you. Would, I mean, may I offer tickets to my show for you and Emma to make up for it?”

“Really?”

Rachel blushed at the excitement in his voice, “Absolutely, and you’d be welcome to stay with us if you wanted.”

“That would be amazing, Rachel, really – you don’t have to though, you know. I get that you had a stressful weekend. It happens to all of us.”

“I want to. Please let me?”

“Yes, yeah, of course yes!”

“I hope you’ll forgive me,” Rachel said.

“It’s already forgotten,” Will replied and she could hear his smile. “Please give Quinn my condolences.”

“I will. Thank you, Mr. Schue.”

“It’s Will, Rachel.”

Rachel smiled and chuckled, “Thank you, Will. Keep an eye out for those tickets.”

“We will! Goodbye.”

“Bye.” She dropped the phone back into her bag and wiped at her eyes, then jerked when she realized she didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there. A quick check of her watch sent her to her feet, cursing and flailing as she rushed off to find Quinn her blasted energy drink before they had to board the plane.

She raced through the airport, trying to locate a shop that would sell her the most coveted of all energy beverages. “How is there no Starbucks,” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. Finally she darted into a gift shop and came out with a couple of magazines, water, and an ice cold blue and silver can.

Quinn was standing at the back of the line when Rachel came racing back towards the gate and she smiled so widely it nearly knocked Rachel over.

“I told you not to stop and sign autographs,” she said, happily accepting her redbull. 

“If you must know, I wasn’t signing autographs; I was running around this tiny airport trying to find your chemical cocktail.”

That lopsided smile never failed to make Rachel’s heart stutter, and she ducked her head to avoid mauling her ridiculously cute girlfriend in front of the entire airport.

“Why are you acting all shy,” Quinn asked and dipped to kiss Rachel’s ear again. Rachel squirmed and distracted herself by playing with Quinn’s hand.

“I’m not,” she half-protested and flashed a brilliant grin.

“Oh, okay,” Quinn shook her head and tugged Rachel after her down the boarding ramp. Once seated and buckled in, Quinn sighed, letting her head fall back against the seat. 

“I can’t wait to be home,” Rachel groaned and hastily pushed up the armrest between them so she could more comfortably lean into Quinn’s side. “I miss our bed.”

“I miss everything,” Quinn said and twisted to stare at Rachel a little more seriously.

“What?” Rachel asked, narrowing her eyes as Quinn studied her. 

“You were really amazing this weekend.”

Rachel couldn’t help it; she snorted. “Quinn, I was a disaster.” 

Quinn shook her head, “No you weren’t. Honestly, Rachel, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Feeling heat creep across her cheeks, Rachel smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Flatterer.”

“You’re kind of my hero.”

“Quinn,” Rachel whined and turned her face into Quinn’s shoulder. “You can’t say things like that in public.”

“I’m just, god, I’m so in love with you,” Quinn confessed, unperturbed by Rachel’s mumbling. She loved making her blush – but she wasn’t just playing with Rachel - she really meant it. “Move in with me.”

“I – what?!” Rachel’s eyes bugged and her mouth fell open. She was not expecting that. “Really?”

“Don’t look so shocked. You practically live with me now. You’ve taken over my closet, you call it our bed, I actually don’t remember what it’s like to wake up without you, and don’t get me started on your shoes – they’re everywhere. So, let’s make it official. Move in.”

“You’re sure?” Rachel stuttered, already fighting back the urge to cry or break into song… or both.

“Rachel,” Quinn laughed and shook her head. “Even before this weekend I’ve never been more sure. I want you to live with me.”

“Yes!” Rachel squealed. “Yes, yes, a hundred times over yes I’ll move in with you!”

“That’s all you have to say?” Quinn arched an eyebrow disbelievingly. 

“What more can I say?” Rachel leaned over and gripped Quinn in the most awkwardly awesome seated hug she’d ever experienced. “I love you and I can’t believe we’re living together!”

“I guess I was expecting a rant of some sort about furniture and whether we continue to sleep in my bed or if it goes in the guest room so we can use that monstrosity of yours...” Quinn pursed her lips and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. “Speaking of which, I have no idea how we’re going to get that thing out of your apartment, let alone into mine.”

“You’re so right!” Rachel gasped and started flapping her hands. “I need paper! I’m going to have to plan; I need phone numbers - we’ll need professional movers... oh! Can I paint the bedroom then? The white walls make me slightly insane, we need some color!”

Quinn smiled and set her chin in her palm, happily watching Rachel animatedly chatter away and dig in her bag for a notebook. She was going to wake up to that face and that crazy enthusiasm every day, for the rest of forever if she had anything to say about it.

She couldn’t be happier.


End file.
